


Disintegration of Anthony Stark

by everythingispoetry



Series: If die, only in Manhattan [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, BAMF Tony, Cancer, Friendship, Gen, Hospitals, Hurt Tony, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Medical Procedures, Mind Games, Missions, Press and Tabloids, SHIELD, Secret Identity, Stark Industries, Tony Feels, Triple Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 03:03:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingispoetry/pseuds/everythingispoetry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>‘Like I said: give the wolves what they want. Stage everything the way that no one will know. Be the once in control – and that’s what I intend to do.’</em><br/><em>‘Sir?’</em><br/><em>‘I’m gonna disappear, baby,’ Tony tells JARVIS seriously. ‘Maybe it’s a coward’s way out, but I’m not above being a coward now.’</em><br/>Or: how Anthony Stark ceased to exist.</p><p>(Part 3: March 2011- January 2012)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disintegration of Anthony Stark

**Author's Note:**

> Music for this piece: [Dave Stewart & Candy Dulfer - Lily Was Here](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XhSx8uKdD5o)
> 
> This is _still_ a fill for [ this avengerkink prompt](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/15292.html?thread=33895612#t33895612) asking for Tony with cancer. 
> 
> Tony's quote is from Lorca's _Dance of Death_
> 
> All my medical knowledge is a result of a long and pleasurable but somehow terrifying research. I hope it's accurate, please correct me if I got something wrong.

 

In March Tony is already long done with the treatment and more than familiarized with the chemo IVs that have more side effects that radiation, but there are only a few left and it’s two or three days a month, not more. He still has fortnightly meetings with Doc and doctor Samski, but everything seems to be okay in blood work and on CTs. It’s easy to build everything around this fading subconscious presence.

‘So, maybe it’s never been a big thing,’ Tony tells himself when he’s walking along the shore as has become his habit these months. ‘It’s just this: tumor, you get rid of the tumor, you suffer for a short bit and then you are done. Lucky. Other people have to undergo treatment for years, long years. We’re _lucky_. The clue word,’ he laughs briefly. ‘But now I can say to myself that I have survived yet another battle, even if it was not even and it was not long. It’s a good feeling,’ he concludes, adjusting sunglasses. It’s spring already, starting today, according to the calendar, but it always feels more or less like spring in Malibu.

The last few months have been exhausting and annoying more than anything, even despite the satisfaction that acting as Iron Man is giving Tony. He’s been flying all over the globe and destroying all the arms and, thanks to JARVIS’ help, he’s helped out the army a few times with capturing some _bad guys_ and taking care of rogue terrorists, but it’s always been come-help-go, without communication, so Iron Man is still a mystery.

When Tony comes back to the house, already with plans for dinner – thank heavens it’s Sunday, he’s been working six days a week to take care of the mess at Stark Industries and between court hearings, the Board and investors’ meetings, consulting hours, talking to the media, staying in the clinic and saving the world, he’s hardly had time to actually work on the R&D stuff that _makes_ SI. Good thing that he’s had a few projects saved up, never presented before, and they were rather well-received, so the stocks are holding steady, still too low but steady – he finds a message to Iron Man directed untraceably by JARVIS from an external server to his home network asking for a meeting.

Whoever sent the message is of S.H.I.E.L.D. which Tony is pretty familiar with so far; they have run into each other a few times since Iron Man started making appearances. Secret government agency, mostly unknown by the public, not much information available until you dig much deeper.

 _Iron Man_ , the message says, _given your work for the benefit of the free world and against the forces that might be a danger to people of all countries, we would like to start a collaboration with you. It would give you authorization to do whatever you are doing now and help you avoid the inevitable backlash from the media and governments in the future, when the novelty of your actions runs out and you will be seen as nothing but a the_ bad one _yourself, holding too much power without any control. You will be allowed to keep your identity secret, so there should be nothing to stop you from making the right decision. Name day and place and S.H.I.E.L.D. will be there to brief you in detail._

And a name at the end: _Director Fury_.

‘Sounds intriguing, doesn’t it?’

‘It does indeed, sir,’ JARVIS agrees and for a second Tony is confused as he’s forgotten that he isn’t talking to himself right now.

‘How long did you estimation give me before someone from the good side tries to shoot me down or goes to the media with their dumb fears?’

‘It was five months and three weeks – and three months have already passed – but remember that the data was too scarce and unsure to make a truly accurate prediction –’

‘I know, I know, J,’ Tony interrupts, waving at the A.I. ‘No need to be meticulous here. But it _is_ a valid concern, I mean, it really is inevitable… and what exactly will I gain?’

‘If you go to the meeting, I am sure you will find out –’

‘Rhetorical, that was rhetorical!’ Tony exclaims, rolling his eyes, Sometimes JARVIS is a bit too persistent with his sarcasm. ‘Well, I guess we can talk. Not like they could capture me if they wanted… how about Wednesday, on the top of Bank of America building? They are around here, right? I am sure they can get a pass to land a helicopter there, the crafty little things they are. At eight. I should be done with work for the day, right?’

‘Last meeting scheduled at 6:30 p.m., but it’s only pro forma, the contract is already being drafted up.’

‘Perfect,’ Tony agrees, nodding to himself and grabbing a bottle with chlorophyll. ‘And tell Happy to move his lazy ass and come here because I _won’t_ be julienning all those veggies that he and Doc insist I eat all by myself.’

 

 

S.H.I.E.L.D. does find a way to install two people at the top of the skyscraper and by the time Tony gets close to the place, they are already waiting by the helicopter, both looking at a tablet one of them has in hand, but as soon as Iron Man lands they are waiting with arms crossed behind their backs and expectant faces.

‘Director Fury,’ Tony greets the dark-skinned man who cringes a tiniest bit at the metallic sound of Iron Man’s voice. ‘And…’

‘Agent Coulson,’ the other man supplies, giving Tony a small dry smile that disappears soon enough. The man looks so _common_ that it’s almost unbelievable.

‘Pleasure to meet you both,’ Tony smoothly replies. One good thing of having a computerized voice is that it doesn’t show anything that you don’t want it to show and that’s always a good precaution.

‘Can I get straight to the point or do you need any kind of information of overview of whatever before I can talk?’

‘I know everything I want to know,’ Iron Man responds, unmoving.

‘I assumed you would,’ Fury replies, sounding somehow content underneath the crudeness. That’s good that he has at least expected his new asset to have brains and resources to check the agency before agreeing to the meeting. Tony wouldn’t want himself either if he wasn’t clever enough to do that. ‘What we’ve got for you is a position in Avengers Initiative. It’s a group of… extraordinary people. We are still looking for more suitable assets, but at the moment there is a Norse god you didn’t know that has visited the Earth,’ Fury pauses, giving him a look, and Tony shows a _no_ with his hand. ‘Okay. Two of our best agents who have rather excellent skills. The Hulk. Spider Man. You can also meet a few other people who we occasionally work with, even though they are not a part of the crowd: the Fantastic Four, X-Men… You get the idea.’

‘Of course. Though I haven’t seen a lot of them working… publicly,’ Tony notes, staring to pace around the free space. The view of late sunset is enchanting, with city lights starting to shine stronger under his feet and a red and pink glow on west. He could just stare at it for hours.

‘Yes, we try to keep most of our operations covert – unless it’s inevitable or a bit of propaganda. Everyone needs some good publicity, no?’

‘Of course,’ Tony agrees, thinking about everything he’s had to listen to about Stark Industries and himself, thanks to the scandal with Obie, and some of the comments he’s heard about Iron Man _already_ , even if most of them are positive. Public opinion is a _bitch_. ‘What would you expect me to do, exactly? In your message you said I could keep doing what I have been doing. I value my independence.’

‘Agent Coulson? He is the Avenger’s _handler_ ,’ Fury explains and takes a few steps back, standing next to the helicopter, his black coat dancing gracelessly on the strong wind.

‘First of all, you would have to take part in the ops that S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers do.,’ Coulson starts, his voice bland but pleasant. ‘Sometimes it’s the things you see on TV, where the _superheroes_ save the day – especially Spider Man, he’s our media golden boy – but most of the time it’s ops that no one can know about even when they are finished. At least that’s what it’s been like so far. We debrief you and you go out with the team. It could be protection or capturing someone or assassination, recovering a person or an item, collecting data, anything. And those little missions of yours? We could make them official and if any questions arose, you would have the backup of the US government.’

‘As easy as that?’

‘We can do almost everything we want to do, Iron Man,’ Coulson replies, with that small polite smile again, and raises one eyebrow in a perfect practiced movement. ‘All you have to do is agree – and we can start from there.’

‘I understand,’ Tony assures the man and turns around, staring at the ocean reflecting last bits of red. ‘And what if I cannot answer your call immediately?’

 _Hypothetical situation_ , Tony assures himself in his head. _Been having helluva busy time with SI and – everything could happen, right?_

‘You mean, you’d have a job or something _personal_ and you wouldn’t be able to come?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, hypothetically, being and Avenger is full-time job. But Spider Man, he only works with us around the US, and he comes and goes…. he lives in Ney York though, so it’s easier for him,’ Coulson says, playing with his tie. Fury is talking with someone over the phone quietly. ‘We could make you a consultant, but I’d prefer to avoid that. I want to know who I can rely on, since it’s practically my team. What kind of problems do you expect to encounter?’

‘Ah. Most of the time I should be able to leave my… work within an hour from a call. That is reasonable enough not to cause problems or – suspicions. And the matter of _getting these_ , of course, depends on where the said place would be. I can, obviously, get everywhere on my own though, no need to lifts.’

‘That certainly is an advantage,’ Coulson admits politely. ‘How long does it take you to travel across the country?’

‘Currently, three hours,’ Tony replies dramatically, although it gets lost on the computerized voice. Coulson recoils slightly and blinks a few times. ‘Two and a half after I install the upgrades I have been working on.’

‘That’s incredible,’ Coulson offers, glancing back to check on Fury; the man is still on the phone, but his eyes are trained on Iron Man and his agent and Tony has a feeling that he can hear everything clearly. ‘Very good.’

‘I normally happen to be in New York quite often, though,’ Tony offers; it’s a half-lie, he hasn’t been there that much recently, but before Afghanistan he spent half his time in Malibu and half in the Big Apple. ‘So I should have no problem with losing time on flying across the country. I have… heard that you are nearby, that’s why I proposed a meeting here in L.A.’

‘Aren’t you a resourceful one,’ Coulson chuckles drily, no doubt making a mental note to talk with the IT guys. ‘So, you’re making a decision now?’

‘Is there any decision to make?’ Tony counters, spinning around and looking at the Agent’s face through HUD. ‘Or are you going to declare me an enemy of the state, pursue me and try to uncover my identity if  I refuse?’

‘I have no business _whatsoever_ with who you really are, Mr. _Iron Man_ , as long as you’re on our side,’ Fury cries across the roof; Tony offers him a armor-gloved wave.

‘You can walk away from here and we’ll never talk again, but then you are all on your own,’ Coulson adds and then takes out a store-bough vacuum-packed donut with coffee glaze. ‘Do you mind?’

‘No, go on, I don’t eat in the suit,’ Tony offers, turning back to stare at the city below; it’s all dark now, the lights and neons colorfully agleam. It’s one of the things he appreciates most about flying: he gets to see all the incredible views, so many beautiful sights that are inaccessible for others. ‘My last question is, what if I want to quit? Let say you’d need me and I would _have to_ quit. You let me go, too?’

‘You ask a lot of those questions, have some doubts?’ Coulson asks around the doughnut bite, cocking his head slightly. The man is precious, Tony decides, and he would – he would _hate_ Tony Stark.

‘I am just human underneath the suit,’ Tony replies, _feeling_ the words in his body; he’s just had the chemo two ago and even though it doesn’t have bad side effects, there is some lingering nausea and tiredness, as well as the strange feeling in his arm where the cannula was placed; it will pass within another  two or three days.

‘Yeah,’ Coulson murmurs, swallowing the last bite of the pastry. ‘We haven’t had anyone _drop out_ yet, but let me assure you we won’t hunt you down. That is – again – as long as you don’t go rogue. And some… notice before could be nice, too. We’re always on a lookout for more people to collaborate with; you know yourself what kind of a mess the world is becoming. It _needs_ a response team.’

‘You can count me in then,’ Tony says in Iron Man’s toneless voice and inclines his head – the helmet – slightly.

‘I’m glad. Good to have you on board, Iron Man.’

‘Glad my handler is not a moron,’ Tony replies, making Coulson snicker slightly. ‘I will see you?…’

‘I guess you want to wrap some things up or take care of some business, so let’s say I will see you within a month? I am sure you can find the New York Headquarters.’

‘There is this great burger joint two blocks away.’

‘Just like I said,’ the agent acknowledges and starts walking towards Fury. ‘We’ve reached an agreement, Director,’ he states with a small nod. Fury turns his one eye to give Iron Man a scrutinizing look.

‘Welcome in S.H.I.E.L.D.,’ he states, hop on the helicopter and gestures at Coulson to follow; two minutes later they are far off, yet another black object in the dark sky.

‘Let’s hope we made the right decision,’ Tony murmurs to himself, JARVIS this time doesn’t offer any comment. Iron Man takes off the building’s roof several minutes after the agents and does a few neat tricks to make himself invisible to all potentially-interested parties before even getting close to Malibu.

‘Congratulations on officially becoming a state-licensed superhero, sir,’ JARVIS offers eagerly when he flies into the workshop, the landing pad opening and starting to take the suit off Tony’s body. His voice sounds _almost_ not mockingly.

‘Not me, baby,’ Tony replies with a grin and then sighs. ‘Not me. _Iron_ _Man_.’

At least JARVIS doesn’t ask if it’s not the same.

 

 

Tony tells Pepper and Happy the next evening that they are moving to New York within a month. They are both _very_ surprised, maybe more than Tony has expected – he has lived between New York and Malibu before Afghanistan, alternating between what he had to do for Stark Industries and what he wanted to do for himself – but there is no doubt in his voice.

Tony sends Doc an encrypted message, just a precaution, and tells him how things went with S.H.I.E.L.D. Later Happy learns the real reason, too, and agrees that it’s the best thing to do now, especially that the change of place can be explained by the need to be closer to the core of the business, since there are so many problems to take care of in SI, so many things that need to be changed in order to bring the company back to _real_ life and Tony is fully aware of the responsibility he has there: even if he could, theoretically, close all the factories and change SI completely or maybe just let it go, there are several thousand people in the US working there, not to mention all the associates abroad.

So, the next few weeks is a mess of meeting in court, trying to persuade the board to accept a few new projects that Tony has finally managed to find time for – and, in the meantime, moving things bit by bit. At least Tony has an apartment in NY so one thing down off the list.

It’s soon a great moment to take care of another one.

‘I need to tell you something,’ Tony tells Doc when he is in the clinic for the day, the medication slowly dripping into his veins. ‘We are moving to New York. It’s for SI – you know we’ve got all the management there, all the main stuff, everyone claims they are sick of teleconferences and flying there and back – and _the other thing_.’

‘You want me to move with you?’ Doc asks; trust him to be the direct one.

‘Your call,’ Tony replies truthfully.

‘Well, that is a stupid thing to be unsure about – I am coming. I will miss the warm weather, but on the other hand, I’ve been here for much too long for my comfort, you know what kind of a restless bum I am. Never set a foot longer that five years in one place.’

‘I know, I know,’ Tony agrees with a smirk. That is so true. Doc is just too restless to stay calm for too long. ‘We need to do it soon. Maybe three weeks from now – any problem with me getting my _nectar_ there?’

‘If you have a place? No. I’m sure Lance will be happy to come over a few times, I will ask him and inform you – tomorrow, I think I should be seeing him tomorrow… Thanks, kid, at least I will have something _to do_ now,’ Doc murmurs, standing up; Tony knows he needs to go back to his other patients.

‘Like?’

‘Looking for a place to rent, of course,’ Doc replies in a bit too happy voice; he does get excited like a kid sometimes. Tony thinks it’s cute, since the man is some fifteen years older than him.

In the end, Samski agrees just like Doc said; Tony does have a place – a _very_ private clinic, just like the one in L.A.; it’s not a big deal, Samski says, he doesn’t really _have to_ come to give Tony the chemo; it could be anyone, but Tony doesn’t feel comfortable _at all_ with telling more people than necessary.

It is just three more times, anyway.

 

 

Two days after the chemo, Tony decides he does feel good enough and calls Coulson to tell him he will be coming over. Or Iron Man does.

The flight is nice and quick; it would be much nicer though if Tony didn’t know that besides Iron Man’s meeting with S.H.I.E.L.D., Tony Stark has a few meetings on his own that will be much less pleasant.

S.H.I.E.L.D.’s headquarters isn’t difficult to find at all. It’s conspicuously normal, come to think of it, but deception is the best trick one can use. Nobody would expect a secret agency in a normal building.

Tony doesn’t even have to look for the entrance or go through whatever security they might have as he lands on the roof and a few moments later the agent comes up and greets him. Iron Man nods in response and follows the man inside, walking two steps behind Coulson through the vast corridors.

The whole thing is much less exciting that one could think of the secret agencies, at least at the time when all Iron Man is supposed to do is to read the rule book, say if he agrees and sign a couple of contracts that are not really important _practically_ , but it’s a boring twenty first century necessity. Coulson seems fine with all the paperwork though, probably for the best; he would go insane if all that managing job was no pleasure to him. How can a man even appear to like paperwork Tony doesn’t know. He does everything he _has to_ , as the CEO, of course, but sighing, making faces and complaining to no one in particular just all make it a bit more bearable.

Iron Man writes his signatures without taking the gloves off what gains a raised eyebrow and a curious look from the agent. His handwriting is not Tony’s; it’s neater, with less swirls, more artificial – more _mechanical_ , no pun intended.

‘So this is all?’ he asks Coulson when all the papers are hidden into one of the desk’s drawers. ‘Or do you require anything else from me?’

‘That’s all. Like I told you before, we are having monthly meetings, besides any ops that might come up. I won’t call you to assemble with the rest – unless it’s a global crisis – until you attend at least one meeting and get to know your teammates personally. It’s in eleven days. May 2nd.  Monday morning. You can do that?’

‘With the heads up, no problem,’ Tony replies after looking at the timetable for the day, immediately displayed by JARVIS; it looks like he doesn’t have a meeting or a court hearing, so it will be easy – well, that all makes sense, they are moving permanently on the 1st, so he would have a clear schedule. ‘I will see you then?’

‘Yes, you will,’ Coulson murmurs in reply, looking with a frown at something written in an agenda-resembling item in his hands. ‘I trust you will see yourself out.’

Iron Man assures him that of course, no problem, and disappears. Tony has an excellent sense of orientation so he would find the way easily, but with JARVIS help over the HUD display  it’s a piece of cake.

 

 

Then it’s finally the first day of May and Tony, Pepper, Happy and Doc move to New York.

Doc goes separately, of course; he could go with Happy maybe, but he said he doesn’t mind. It might also be the fact that Tony and his crew travel on a plane and Doc prefers good old buses, spending a full week to get to the East Coast with his stuff – two suitcases, not counting a few miscellanea that he asked Tony to take for him – and, according to what he texts Tony, it’s a great time.

This is how the two of them met, too, back in mid-nineties: Tony was looking for some adventure – or maybe for some trouble, it’s difficult to say – and he stopped right in the middle of a motorway that led _nowhere_ and let the hitchhiker into his million-worthy car – and they hit off immediately. Tony was fascinated – still is – by the man who shares so many of his sentiments _and_ preferred way of life that involves doing a lot of things that people would never think a Medical Doctor and an inventor-engineer-PhD-kind-of-doctor would even consider doing.

Tony has visited his apartment – well, more like one tenth of a skyscraper, there are six vast levels, mostly unused – a few times over the last weeks so it’s ready to use; Pepper has her own place – they drop her off in front of the building before going to Tony’s; Happy is staying with him.

‘You sure?’ Tony asks the man once again when the car is parked underground. ‘I’ve got a couple more places in the city. I mean – you know how things are, you know how _I am_ , you don’t have to be dependent on me –’

‘I want to, boss,’ Happy cuts in, rolling his eyes. ‘I know you can be a pain in the ass, but I also know that you can be helluva stupid when you don’t control yourself, so someone’s gotta watch over you.’

‘I have JARVIS for that,’ Tony counters, getting out of the car and moving to open the rear door to take his bags. ‘He’s got enough sass to nanny me into eating baby formula for breakfast, if only he decided that is what would be best for me.’

Happy snickers, making a face, and nods in agreement. That isn’t that improbable.

‘Okay, then you can think I want to stay here ‘cause it’s got the best view of all your places and when you order food, it’s always the best in town.’

‘That I can agree with,’ Tony comments, shutting the door as everything that’s been inside is balanced in his hands.

‘And, so that I can gang up with JARVIS and cover for you when you’re feeding your superhero ego, _Iron Man_.’

‘I knew I hired you for a reason, those long years ago,’ Tony concludes with a grin and pats the man’s back. ‘Time to go up and get some Sunday rest before we’re back among the wolves,’ he adds and they take the elevator straight to the top level.

 

 

The next morning is Iron Man’s first team date day, though not everyone is present in the conference room at 1000 hours – Thor is still in Asgard, that’s what Tony has learned from a file Coulson sent Iron Man, along with some info on the prince, since they don’t know when the god will be back to introduce himself.

Spider Man in his usual costume – Tony would like to know very much what it is made of, exactly, but that’s a _Tony_ thing to ask – but Banner, Romanov and Barton are in everyday clothing, Tony notes when he enters the room. Coulson greets him, sitting at the end of the table in his usual smart suit but with sleeves rolled up and no tie in sight.

‘Take a place wherever you want and let’s move on to introd–’

‘You make us sound like an AA group,’ the archer cuts in, gaining a _really, Barton?_ look from Romanov.

‘– introducing Iron Man to _our protocols_ , Barton, not to each other, you can shake hands afterwards. I know _you_ might be free all day but some people here actually work.’

Barton pouts and Tony snickers inside the suit, but Iron Man just takes a place two chairs away from Banner, in front of Spider Man.

‘You need to give us some detail on what you can do,’ Coulson tells Iron Man, taking out an engraved pen from his pocket and starting to fill out some fort. ‘So that we’ll know exactly how to plan the ops with and without you.’

‘Of course,’ Tony agrees, closing his eyes, and then recites all the data that might be important and is not revealing _too much_ , and answers questions coming from all the team members – so that they might know what they can count for and how the collaboration might theoretically be like. Tony appreciates a lot the detailed and individual approach; JARVIS is transforming all the information in data and putting them in respective files straight away, to review later at home.

When they are finished, an hour and at least one cup of coffee for all but Tony later, everyone leaves the room looking tired, as if it was the evening and not eleven a.m. Coulson tell Iron Man that he will probably have his first op this month, if everything goes as planned; Iron Man nods, says _okay_ and turns around to leave, but Coulson speaks up again.

‘We’d like to make it official,’ he states. Tony frowns at that, but it is just to himself.

‘Yes?’

‘You being on the team. It would be good to be a step ahead of everyone who might want to sanction you – better not to give _the public_ reasons to judge you more than they are already starting to do. A statement coming from us, you or us and you?’

‘Just you,’ Tony decides. He doesn’t feel like adding to his schedule more human interaction than he’s already forced to deal with, even if he were to be shielded by the suit. ‘I don’t particularly feel like being in the spotlight like that.’

‘All right,’ Coulson agrees, putting the scattered papers from the table into a folder. ‘I will talk with Director, out legal and PR teams and we’ll do it sometime this week, I will notify you.’

‘I will be waiting,’ Tony replies and leaves the room, going straight to the roof to take off. He would _love_ to talk to Banner – the man is a genius and his work really is unparalleled, it would be an instant science madness – but it’s so _Tony_. Maybe there will be some other opportunity in the future; Tony makes a mental note to try to persuade the doctor to come over to _consult_ one project or another for SI at some point. He just needs some good reasons there.

S.H.I.E.L.D. issues an official statement two days later, holding a small press conference – the information spreads quickly and it’s all over the news when Tony comes back home after a day he spent in R&D and his office, looking at new applications for the few new posts SI is creating. At least that looks promising, the only bright moment of the boring and _rainy_ day: since SI is still having problems with public opinion and investors – Obadiah trial is _far_ from being over – there are no usual big names between the applicants, but many young _very clever_ people seem to be taking advantage of the situation. Tony understands that perfectly: they may not have much to their names, so most big companies wouldn’t trust them enough, but Tony has the gift of seeing things in people and he knows that after the interviews he himself will be conducing, he _will_ find a real jewels to recruit.

So, the next few days, Tony squeezes the talks into his schedule.

‘If someone doesn’t have a problem with the fact that the interview will be taking place in R&D while I am looking at the results of the most recent stimulation for whatever I am to oversee today, and maybe even offer some comment or insight – that definitely isn’t bad, baby,’ Tony tells JARVIS when he asks if he should make space in the timetable for some uninterrupted office time for when the people come.

‘I see your point, sir,’ the A.I. replies, making Tony smile triumphantly.

Tony ends up filling all positions within a week, hiring three crazy men over sixty – Irvin, Berry and Gilbert – who have been friends their whole lives, but never got official education after high school; instead they have been factory workers by day and garage inventors by night, for decades. Their ideas are incredible, useful and clever and _cheap_ – Tony appreciates designs that can be almost made out of scraps, _thank_ _you_ , so he immediately sends them to work with the SI branch that develops mass production items of everyday use for third world countries. The other new employees are a mixture of nine, men and women alike, and they are delegated to departments respective to their area of study and go straight to work, with motivation and avidity that is rare to be seen, what totally makes Tony’s day.

 

 

On Saturday, in the middle of the month, there is another event that might end up being nice, hopefully, although Tony isn’t sure if he can say successful – he doesn’t know how he should measure _that_ since recently he seems to hold things to different standards than the world around.

It’s a simple thing: starting a charity organization that will be taking care of orphans in the countries where US army is stationing for long-term missions – and _yes_ , mostly Afghanistan. Of course Tony expects it to be a x-rayed by the media and followed by the usual comments.

There isn’t even a big gala, since Tony doesn’t feel like hosting one of those and he has other things to waste time and money on. There is only a relatively small meeting in the New York SI Tower, in the reception hall, and all that happens is Tony giving a speech, then sharing words and smiles with everyone around as they mingle sweetly. Tony is nursing a headache after another working Saturday that began at 4 a.m. and all he wants is to go back to sleep and don’t get up for at least twelve hours, preferably three days, but when he is in the smart tailored suit, he automatically keeps his back straight and a smile plastered on his face and pretends he in enjoying himself so well that usually he is even able to believe himself.

‘This is all very nice,’ a woman says behind his back when Tony is pouring himself a cold coke over some ice and lemon; he turns around to see a half-familiar face, but he can’t place the name. ‘Loreen Baker, Daily News. The whole concept is very nice, Mister Stark.’

‘Thank you, Miss Baker,’ he risks a bit, but she doesn’t make a face so he’s guessed right.

‘But,’ she starts and Tony stifles a sigh, there is always some _but_. ‘Isn’t all this just an attempt to draw the attention away from all the problems you are experiencing, and Mister Stane’s trial? The timing seems convenient.’

‘Well, I don’t think I would be able to draw your attention from out affair even if I tried hard, which I am not doing because I spend all my time on restructuring Stark Industries so that we won’t have to fire out employees,’ Tony replies sweetly, offering her a smile and feeling the headache pound in his temples. Not good at all. ‘Besides, I started the process soon after I came back home after my… captivity… It only took so long to obtain all the necessary permissions and agreements, since the charity is working internationally.’

 _It will be a year in a week, missy, if you don’t realize,_ Tony adds silently to himself.

‘That’s very noble of you.’

‘I try to do what I can,’ Tony offers, knowing perfectly well that she will say and then write what she wants anyway, she’s just the type. No real need to explain or make up excuses.

‘It still seems like you are trying to buy positive opinions about yourself and your business, though, Mister Stark. You support other charities, don’t you?’

‘Yes, I do – but that’s the keyword: _other_. I don’t really care what it seems like, Miss Baker, as long as these children _there_ do get the help that we intend to offer to them.’

‘You’ve got an answer prepared for every question,’ she comments, making Tony want to scream and run away. Or maybe not scream, he really needs painkillers right now.

‘I’m a genius, sweetheart, I don’t need to pre-prepare anything, it all comes to me naturally,’ Tony replies in a low voice, takes the last sip of his coke; them he offers the woman a subtle salute and disappears into the crowd. It isn’t long before the _party_ is over and Tony can finally go back home. Happy offers him an advil as soon as he gets into the Rolls Royce; the man is _truly_ a gem. Tony has managed to brush off Pepper, but Happy _always_ knows.

On Sunday morning – or early afternoon, since Tony managed to stay asleep like a baby – people don’t have better things to do than gossip, apparently, and the first thing Tony sees when he asks JARVIS to turn the TV on is a celebrity gossip program in which his persona is being discussed by a team of three tall skinny brown-haired and brown-eyes women that could be triplets but are not. Apparently they came back on after advertisement break.

‘What the action lacks, according to our friends who attended the event, and according to today’s newspaper headers and online comments, is genuineness –’

‘JARVIS, off. I’ve had a very informative five seconds and I don’t want any more of _that_ for the rest of the day.’

‘Of course, sir,’ the A.I. responds and obeys, turning the TV off, the bedroom becoming blissfully quiet again.

It’s been pointless to have even the slightest hope that the media will actually understand that Tony’s action is _not_ aimed at buying their good words because hey, what is happening is exactly the opposite and Tony is smart enough to have predicted that. It’s easier for them to ignore logic though.

‘Wonder how long it’s going to take before anything I do is not going to be analyzed by a horde of sensation-thirsty journalists,’ Tony mutters to himself, sitting up and slowly dragging himself out of the bed. ‘Probably forever.’

At least the headache is gone.

 

 

The last five days of May turn out to be busy: on 27th there is yet another court hearing where Tony is supposed to testify, so he spends a few long hours browsing the data and trying to predict what exactly might be in question this time and generally trying to _remember_ most of the situations he’s going to be asked about. The problem is finding balance between knowing satisfyingly enough and not too much; he’s got a _very good_ memory, not quite eidetic but not too far off, so giving a lot of details would be easy, it would only make everyone think that he’s making things up. Even with the proofs, people tend to be distrustful in such situations. Tony has to agree that they might partially be right; it’s difficult to understand that someone as intelligent as him could just dismiss all signs of problems for years what he _did_ , he can’t believe that himself.

 _Time to pay for the stupidity_ , he tells himself entering the court. Happy by his side as always, Pepper already waiting inside.

Tony plays the game of finding balance carefully, with skill and ease, even though it gets harder as four hour have passed, half of which was listening to testimonies he could hardly concentrate on; fortunately after a break and another hour of questioning, the judge adjourns the meeting and sets another in three weeks.

The next day is Friday and it’s chemo day – normally that would be 26th, but a day before the hearing wasn’t a good idea; 28th doesn’t seem like a much better option, really, since it’s Tony’s birthday the next day, but this year there is no party planned.  He hasn’t even gotten _that_ many regretful messages and pleads to organize a party like he did for the last… twenty years of his life as the women _love_ those and would give their firstborn for being able to kiss Tony, not to mention do something more. Still. Even if there are fewer of them now, given Tony’s stunted social life these days and his self-imposed half-reclusion after Afghanistan.

He has JARVIS send them all a message that maybe next year.

The truth is that it’s his 40th birthday and for once, he doesn’t want to spend the time drunk or hangover or having sex with a random cute female.

Pepper gets a day off – from her PA job, too, since it’s Saturday evening and she’s been working a lot recently – and Tony gives her a double ticket to a classical music concert of some quartet that JARVIS knows she likes, with a note saying: _you have always knows I prefer giving to than receiving. Have a nice evening in my name. T._

After the chemo – second last, Tony keeps reminding himself, he is feeling rather faint and slightly nauseous and spends most of the day in bed; at least no one is surprised that he’s taken some days off around his birthday, not even the silliest men from of Board. He’s been in SI six days a week for _months_ , so he’s bound to take a few days off simply for rest. It does end up being rest days, in a way.

The birthday itself is calm and funny and mellow all at the same time; Tony is still not feeling very well so there is no madness going on: it’s just him, Happy and Doc eating, drinking – non-alcoholic,  obviously – and sharing embarrassing and cool stories from their lives, all with some football match in the background. Tony and Happy cook the dinner, Doc brings a meringue torte from his favorite bakery where he has to drive forty minutes each way; the incredible taste is doubly appreciated.

Sunday is another lay-in day, with Happy and Doc still staying around what Tony greatly appreciates. Especially homemade waffles for breakfast that seem to satisfy the hunger he’s felt as the nausea dissipated.

May 31st, Tony gets his first mission as an Avenger that is not his own – he didn’t have time for more than one of those, anyway – and it is to retrieve a hostage from a hidden base in the rainforest of Brazil where he’s been captured after trying to infiltrate a AIM-associated science center half a country away.

 _Good it’s not that far away_ , Tony thinks when he suits up; there is still some lingering tiredness in his body and flying somewhere far like China or Australia wouldn’t be much fun. Unless he tried to test sleeping in the suit, but that doesn’t seem like a very good idea – and JARVIS would be _far_ from happy.

What would be difficult to anyone else is easy for Iron Man: all he has to do, in the end, is fly into the base, shoot a couple of bullets fire couple of tranq shots – there aren’t even many guards, it’s clearly only a prison-like facility, far from an actual base or headquarters – retrieve the half-conscious man, wrap him with a special heat-keeping foil and fly low over the jungle, with the body in his arms, being quick and delicate – and then arrive at an extraction point where S.H.I.E.L.D. is waiting with a medic and a helicopter twenty minutes later.

There: piece of cake if you have a flying suit equipped with the best anti-radar on planet and special-technology panels that make the armor look almost invisible.

Then it’s only a matter of filling out one form and a brief talk with Coulson and Iron Man is reminded that the monthly meeting is, in fact, the next day.

At 1000 hrs it’s the group is already seated by the table when Iron Man arrives punctually. He takes his place, turns his _helmet_ to look at Coulson finishing his coffee, and the debrief starts. Iron Man gets praised for good work and Tony would be thankful if he weren’t just tired; it makes him grin like mad anyway under the faceplate. It was a lovely thing, to go on a mission, with a purpose in his mind, not having to kill anyone or destroy anything, just – save a life. A nice change.

After a short coffee break they go back to discussing the strategy and two missions for the whole team that are slowly brewing up in the East; at 1300 hrs they are done, Iron Man disappears and Tony Stark has a _scheduled_ meeting with Pepper about the art collection and the upcoming Stark Industries Education Foundation gala. Another perfectthing to occupy mind with, Tony notes irritably.

That’s it for his week off.

 

 

The gala takes place two weeks later, on Saturday, and contrary to launching the previous charity, this one is a well-established tradition that has been started by Howard back in 60s, even before Tony was born; it has always taken place in the same building, hosting over 500 guests, and it’s tiring to even think about it, but – not a good moment to break a tradition right now. Pepper and her team have been working on organizing the monster for half a year.

Tony puts on a slim-fitted navy blue suit with a creamy shirt, a burgundy tie – with a perfect self-tied Eldredge knot – and matching burgundy shoes; it’s half because he can and half because eccentricity is what is expected of him.

The gala starts at seven but given that some guests, some _stars_ , are bound to appear fashionably late, Tony’s opening speech isn’t until 2000 hrs.

‘I would like to welcome you at forty eighth annual Stark Industries Education Foundation gala,’ he starts finally and all the noises cease immediately; it’s fascinating and discontenting at the same time, being on the stage in front of all those people; sure, it’s something Tony has always been used to – been trained for, too – but it feels particularly unsettling this time.

Last year he hasn’t been to the gala; it’s was only a short time after he came back from Afghanistan; he didn’t even watch it on TV.

So, being followed by hundreds of scrutinizing eyes tracing his every movement, waiting for a mistake, commenting on his words, especially when he’s up on the scene in front of all of them – it makes him just unsafe. As if someone was going to notice the arc reactor and ask, strike, fucking hurt him; as if someone was going to notice a crack under his perfect mask’s surface and he’d be _exposed_ ; as if someone was going to figure out his two big secrets and he’d have to deal with that, too, ah – but he’s obsessing _again_.

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

‘I was not present at the gala last year,’ Tony says; it’s strange that all those thoughts flicked through his mind so quickly, he apparently didn’t even appear to be staring into space; Pepper or Happy or JARVIS would scold him. ‘You all know the reason and it’s not what I intent to talk about today – but it is where something new has started for me, for Stark International and hopefully for all of us. You must recall what I said during the first press conference: _I had my eyes opened. I came to realize that I have more to offer this world than just making things that blow up_ ,’ Tony recites. There is a small wave of giggles and a few comments raising from the crowd, so he nods and flashes them a smile. ‘I am now – and I will be – paying for my ignorance and stubbornness that’s been going on for years before my eyes were opened: that is what you can see in the news these days, or read about. But this is not something I want to talk about today, either,’ he makes a pause letting the crowd share a few words before it falls silent again; he’s not in hurry. ‘There are many things that can be done – that need to be done – to improve the world around us and I believe that we, who have the means to do it, are _obliged_ to make things happen. It is out obligation to ourselves, to our children, to our country and to our world to provide the young ones with the possibility of education and using all of their skills and abilities, as it is not us that will change the world – well, it might be _me_ , but not most of you, pardon my honesty –’ a wave of laughter, Pepper shakes her head in disbelief like she always does, Happy stifles laughter, Tony can see, ‘– and that is the Education Foundation’s goal, to reach out to the kids that _want to –_ but are not invited to play. We have hired, recently, nine incredible people, all too young to be regarded seriously by most employers and probably most of you, some of them without a college degree yet that we will help them obtain. And yet I am sure that putting my future in theirs hands has been the best of all choices. The enthusiasm and the new approach that they all show – from kids to young adults – is something that we all should learn. Therefore, in the light of recent events, I would like to ask you to leave behind your grudges and irrational problems,’ there is a murmur raising among the audience, but Tony’s voice is stronger. ‘And all I would like to ask you is this: spend one evening thinking about what I say here now. Just one. And if you decide that I am right – which you should feel morally obliged to do, at least as long as you are here, availing yourselves of Stark International and my personal hospitality,’ laughter again, more than consternation, _good_ , ‘ –  if you decide that I am right, do your best to help out one kid. There is about five hundred of you, unless we’ve got some unannounced guests, so it’s that many kids that we could support. Last year, the Foundation helped – I have memorized the exact number here – one thousand nine hundred ninety seven kids. Tonight, all I want to ask form you is _not_  money donations to the Foundation, you know I’ve got enough, but it is to give one kid a chance. And nothing should make us happy but that. So, for now, thank you and again, welcome!’ Tony finishes, bows deeply, waves at the crowd – they seem rather happy and moderate, not too bad for these days – and then he walks off the scene.

‘You were _great_ , boss,’ Happy offers, handing Tony a bottle of water; it always is so hot with all the strong light trained on you.

‘You might be the only one who thinks that,’ Tony sighs, finishes the water quickly and adjusts his tie. ‘Shall we?’ he asks Pepper, offering her an arm, she rolls her eyes but takes it and, leaving Happy to observe from the shade, they step into the crowd.

 

 

The next morning Iron Man is called in at 0400 hrs to help Hawkeye and Black Widow with a _situation_ involving a woman from top 20 of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s wanted list who has been sighted in Chicago, of all places – she has somehow managed to mislead everyone into thinking she was in Europe. Tony doesn’t dwell on that too much, though, most of his thoughts circle around _thank heavens it’s Sunday_ because he has a few important meetings the next day and making decisions between Iron Man and Tony Stark is something he’s happy to avoid for as long as possible.

The mission is simple: catch the woman and hand her over to S.H.I.E.L.D. alive; it turns out to be easier than expected with Iron Man’s input, mostly because when Widow and Hawkeye incapacitate the woman’s bodyguards, all that Tony has to do is grab her and take off – and no one can follows him straight up in the sky.

‘Eeesy,’ Tony sings-songs to himself when they are done before noon and mostly because S.H.I.E.L.D. insisted on waiting for the most opportune moment; it was full two hours before Coulson called it. ‘Could do that every single day,’ he adds when the suits is unwrapping around him. ‘Which number was she again?’

’20, sir,’ JARVIS replies promptly, already running hot water in the bathroom.

‘That bastard,’ Tony laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘He said top 20, I didn’t think it was the lame end of top 20. But okay. Better than nothing…’ he keeps talking as he undressed and then jumps into the bath full of pleasantly warm water. ‘Music, J.’

A soft rock ballads immediately starts to pour seemingly from nowhere: the A.I. always knows perfectly what Tony’s in mood for.

After the bath and lunch Tony goes down to the mini workshop that he has here in the apartment; his big lab is in the SI building a few blocks away. What he has here is mostly computers, holo-screens and, in a well-hidden room, three Iron Man suits, a couple of spare arc reactors and some parts, just in case.

Before Tony starts to actually do something, he asks J to turn on the TV on the main screen as he prepares himself a cup of coffee – as soon as he hears the voices he knows it’s the three brunettes _again_.

‘JARVIS, baby, are you trying to give me a heart attack or make me shoot myself? Or is this _purely accidental, sir_?’ Tony whines and pouts at the nearest camera. JARVIS, wisely, doesn’t reply until Tony takes a sip of his coffee.

‘They just seem to summarize the opinions about yesterday’s gala pretty well, sir. And they give a rather comprehensive overview, even if somehow narrow-minded.

‘Comprehensive narrow-mindedness? You’re reaching new levels of absurd, J, watch out… How does that work?’ Tony adds, sitting in the comfortable armchair by the main desk, legs hugging his chest, touching the arc reactor softly.

‘They seem to present all three popular opinions about you.’

‘Me? Not the gala?’

‘They seem to think the gala was you,’ JARVIS offers and Tony snickers into the cup.

‘So?’

‘The first is: you continue the noble tradition that has been established by Stark International all those years ago and focuses on the young people you have mentioned; this one is the least common. The second is: you did all that to keep people’s mind away from the fact that SI is a falling empire to fool everyone into believing that by the new influence of young people you could still fix the company and therefore trick people into making a specific business decisions. The third, most popular, is that you’re trying to simply buy the good grace of the public, since you are still suspected of collaborating with Mister Stane. It isn’t as much about SI as it is about you yourself, sir.’

‘What a beautiful fucking life, J,’ Tony sighs and finished the coffee in two big gulps. ‘Is there _anything_ I could do without them bitching about me on TV?’

‘I am sure something –’

‘Don’t, baby,’ just _don’t_ ,’ Tony stops the A.I. and then gets up. ‘Tell Happy to go up if he can, I _need to_ spar with him, let out some steam… I can’t believe they are all so moronic,’ Tony murmurs as he climbs up the stairs.

Happy meets him in the gym five minutes later.

‘Give me all you’ve got, I’m a bit _mad_ right now,’ Tony says before getting onto the ring. Happy nods – no need to explain what it’s about – and then they get started.

 

 

June 26th is Tony’s last chemo and a meeting with the doctors the next afternoon.

‘So, that’s it?’ he asks Doc and Samski after the CT and blood tests they’ve done seem perfectly clean and there is no indication that something might be wrong.

‘Yes. We need to meet every two months, for now. We usually do that less often, but you know how it is with health services…’

‘Yup. I’ve got money to pay, I can demand things.’

‘Exactly, yes, I wish I could do that with everyone, but… Never mind. Now, the best thing you can go is stay as healthy as possible, but I know you eat well and have exercise and all that, you don’t smoke, no weight to lose – I still think you could put some on, you know it – so what can I say. Keep an eye open on any signs at all that something might be wrong and give me a call if _anything_ happens.’

‘All right,’ Tony agrees with a smile. That’s easy.

‘I’ll be going then,’ Samski says as he stands up. ‘There are a few things I wanted to do in the city before my flight back. Well. Good luck, Stark.’

‘Thank you, Doctor,’ Tony replies, shaking the man’s hand. ‘For all this.’

‘Sure. Now, gentlemen, have a nice day,’ the man says and disappears in the corridor. Tony closes the door after him and sits on the armchair in front of Doc’s.

They stay in silence for a few long moments, nothing but remote muffled voices audible form the corridor, mixed with the softest buzz of electricity present in every building with fake light and air conditioning turned on.

‘So, it’s really gone?’ Tony asks again, breaking the silence, his voice sounding somehow drowning within the calmness of the yellow-colored sunny afternoon. It all feels to surreal.

‘Yes, Tony. You are okay now – as much as someone with a personal with a peak-of-modern-science-powered thing in their chest might be… How has it been, by the way?’

‘I boxed with Happy _a lot_ the other day. Believe me, if I didn’t, I would have done something stupid. Blown something up or something… Anyway. It hurt a bit afterwards, but nothing more than usual. I’m more used to it, it’s… a constant slightest ache, more like an awareness of the thing in my chest than anything else. It’s healing every day, even after all this time. Well, that, and Happy knows how to throw a punch without breaking the trinket,’ Tony adds, tapping on the invisible reactor. Doc laughs shortly.

‘You really should try some other things and not just boxing, kid,’ he comments, looking at Tony questioningly even though he knows the answer.

‘I do and it’s all okay but when I am angry, it’s the best way to let it go, you know.’

‘What made you so angry then?’

‘Just the usual? Stupid people? The media?’ Tony asks rhetorically, sighing with resignation. ‘I guess I was foolishly hoping, against my better judgment, that hosting a ball like every fucking year and giving millions to disadvantaged kids for their education because they are crazy smart and deserve it and the will _really_ change this shithole – I thought they would have nothing to find fault with. But apparently the whole gala was my selfish what-ev-er, I don’t want to remember the exact words.’

‘And you thought you knew better than to listen to those words.’

‘I do know better,’ Tony says, emphasizing the _do_ and giving Doc a long look. ‘I thought I would say _fuck_ _them_ and forget, but it just – made me annoyed. And disappointed. I know that the SI mess is partially my fault –’

‘You know what your real fault is?’ Doc cuts in, leaning forward to be closer to Tony.

‘What?’

‘You are a terrible judge of a character  – don’t make that face – when it comes to people that you anyhow care about. Just be honest, you are amazing with lots of things, but when someone gets closer to you, you have no idea what to do and you feel terrible when you think bad of them or when you don’t trust them fully even if they didn’t deserve it. Do I need to remind you all the names or –’

‘Nah, I get it,’ Tony admits. What Doc says _is_ true and it applies to the man himself, even; Tony hates judging people who are close to him, starting with Pepper and going back to Tony’s first serious girlfriends. It’s because he has been judged himself all his life, and talked down a lot, mostly by Howard, and he still wouldn’t want other people to feel the same way he did for so many years.  _Don't do unto others what you don't want others to do unto you._

‘So, we go celebrate to a bar?’ Doc asks after a few more minutes of silence.

‘Somehow I don’t feel like celebrating,’ Tony replies, making an apologetic face. He should feel like it, he knows, it’s only logical, but he’s still tired because of all the work – another round of 72 working hours a week; he’s not in top condition after the chemo yet, too, so all he wants is to get some good food, have JARVIS play him a movie, and rest.

Especially as the next day begins with 8 a.m. R&D meeting.

‘Pizza?’

‘You won’t leave me alone?’

‘If I do, you’ll get drunk ‘cause you’re in the mellow mood today and that never ends well, and I know Happy is out of town for the day with Pepper – right? And you don’t want to be hung-over at work tomorrow.’

‘No, I guess I don’t,’ Tony agrees.

‘So, pizza from Lombardi’s, root beer and some terrible action movie?’

‘It’s a mellow day,’ Tony repeats the man’s words with an obvious smirk, standing up. ‘We need something more subtle… I think a _robotic horror thing_ , like you call them, will do.’

 

 

The first day of the month, as always, marks an Avenger’s meeting and it’s the most interesting thing that happens for over three weeks.

There is no mission for Iron Man for the moment; it seems that even superheroes – and supervillains – have some time off for summer holidays, Tony comments to himself. It’s not something Iron Man, who appears to be rather composed and rational, at least for the moment, would say.

July therefore passes between court and SI tower where Tony is personally overseeing several R&D projects and working on his own. His own lab back at home is not completely satisfying and he’d need a few more months, at least, to even consider working in Howard’s workshop in the 5th Avenue Mansion; it would be just too fucking distracting and Tony doesn’t have time for distractions, even with Pepper’s increasing help with all the organizing part of his CEO work. Sure, he has _professionals_ to help him with things, but they don’t understand him, it’s just another set of people who don’t _get him_ on the most basic levels. And firing them now to look for someone else would be too much of a revolution with all the mess they already have to deal with.

At the end of the month there is one event Tony has been waiting for anxiously: it’s a _private_ meeting in a children’s hospital where SI Medical has been donating experimental medical equipment for testing in real life conditions.

There are a few kids with cancer there, he knows, and he probably shouldn’t have some feelings about it, but he does. Not that he can show any of them; he can’t even tell the kids he understands and can’t explain _why_ , because come on, these are children and even if they don’t want to tell the secret, they might do so anyway.

Tony and Pepper arrive at the hospital at noon and one of the nurses comes to greet them. They meet with the hospital’s manager first, but it’s mostly pleasantries and promises – and praises, the personnel is highly satisfied with how the equipment has been working. That brings a smile to Tony’s face and he has wears it for the rest of the day and it’s not even fake.

Then it’s time to visit the kids and see the famous _real life conditions._ It’s two hours of walking from room to room, greeting kids and chit-chatting with them and Tony is – surprising everyone but Pepper who has known that for a long time – really good with kids. They appreciate a lot that he doesn’t lie; honesty is highly valued, especially in their life situations.

‘Mama said you were in a hospital, too,’ one six or seven-year-old girl states, eying Tony mistrustfully. ‘You don’t look sick,’ she says accusingly in the end.

‘I’m not sick now,’ Tony says. It’s not a lie at all. He smirks internally. _It isn’t_. ‘I was a bit sick and there was no doctor where I was for some time so I got a bit more sick, but I’m okay now. I’ve been lucky,’ Tony replies. There. It’s all truth, too.

‘So what do you do now?’ she asks and Tony blinks, trying to figure out her logic, but he can’t find the right connection. She seems to notice that though. ‘Mama says I will go to school when I am not sick.’

‘Oh, I go to work,’ Tony replies, nodding in understanding. He is fully aware of the few other people staring at him – the adults, he can be almost sure they have seen enough TV to know what’s going on exactly, but no one feels it’s necessary to mention it, thank heavens.

There are several more kids he talks to and when they are finished, he manages to talk Pepper into a late lunch in one of their favorite bistros.

Everything seems fine and Tony is so pleased with the time he could spend away from the scandals, the problems, the people talking, everyone arguing, everyone being silly and petty and pointless. He appreciates even the time away from his machines – no matter how much he loves them, he just sometimes needs a break.

He tries not to appear overly happy with the whole thing, anything  uncharacteristic would be easily noticed by Pepper and would end in questions and even if Tony doesn’t have _that_ much to hide at the moment, it wouldn’t end well is she was too suspicious.

Then, a few days later, _of course_ one of the parents – there is no finding out which one, they asked to remain anonymous, not that Tony would actually do something to them if he knew – talks to press and tell them about Tony Stark’s visit and the whole _buying people_ thing comes back twice as vicious and Tony doesn’t really care _what_ they say about him, but he cares about the fact that suddenly, he’s basically harassed for comments everywhere he goes; talked about everywhere, all the time. He is too tired for that shit and he doesn’t know why it’s so blown out of proportion; it’s like he’s the media’s favorite prey now _and_ there is nothing else to write about because it’s the middle of summer. Dead season.

Tony isn’t sure if he is feels more resigned or angry about the whole situation.

Probably resigned.

 

 

So, the last day of July, it’s Monday, Tony goes to R&D and does his work for the day _quickly_ , without even looking at the projects that he could start early. Instead he goes home, takes a bottle of his best bourbon – doesn’t matter if he will regret it in the morning – goes down to the library room that he rarely uses yet it’s equipped with everything he needs – a computer, holo screens and JARVIS. Well, those three are in every single room of the apartment, including bathrooms, but – it’s early afternoon and the sun is shining straight into the room and it’s just nice. The place full of books and big potted plants, creating a calm, fuzzy atmosphere that fits Tony’s mood perfectly.

‘JARVIS, I need you to access a file we’ve saved a few days after I woke you up – code tango tango lisa tango zero zero five oh one. Got it?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Open. Show me the data on the screen,’ Tony orders, sitting on the fluffy carpet, taking a generous swig of bourbon before setting the bottle on the floor; one of the good things about being off meds: no one will screen your drinking habits. Not that Tony particularly wants to _have_ a habit, but honestly, he hasn’t been drunk for over a year, high time to remedy that.

The screen is embedded into one of the walls, so JARVIS simply uses the bottom part of it that Tony can see without a problem. The data is displayed within a few seconds; JARVIS takes him time to filter it and make it nice and easy to read.

‘You haven’t accessed the file in a long time,’ JARVIS comments when Tony takes another swallow of the alcohol and makes a face at the A.I.

‘Didn’t need to go undercover for a long time,’ Tony replies even though the reason is obvious to both him and JARVIS. ‘Everything updated?’

‘Physical documents, no, but all records online, yes.’

‘Read it to me, J,’ Tony asks and leans back to lay on the floor, the bourbon bottle still in his hand but he’s careful not to spill it; the stuff is too good even for Tony Stark to just let it splash on the floor. ‘Just the basic basics, updated to today.’

‘Nate Rives,’ JARVIS starts, his voice as flat as always, making Tony smirk. His creation is perfect. ’37. British resident, born on September 1st 1974\. Homeschooled. Self-taught. Has been working in IT and programming since his twentieth birthday, always via internet; troubled childhood, left his home at that age and never came back, changing his name to the present one. Currently resident of a small London flat near Regent’s Park, working from home.’

‘Redact the file to state he’s been mute since he was a kid, I don’t want questions, and just in case – you know. That should work. Voice is one of the recognizable things I can’t quite change, unless permanently… Done?’

‘Done, sir. Will you require physical documents?’

‘Make note for British passport, I guess, and driving license – for later. Nothing now… Bank accounts?’

‘Like you set up, sir.’

‘Perfect, baby,’ Tony murmurs, sitting up a bit, taking a few big gulps of the alcohol and hugging the bottle to his chest. He’s not drunk – not yet, at least, not eve tipsy enough. ‘I want you to find a place – make it an group home, ‘kay? Donate 5,000. Make sure it’s used wisely, will ya?’

‘Of course, sir. All in the name –’

‘Well, obviously,’ Tony cuts in, rolling his eyes. ‘You can tell them we can meet sometime, but it’s impossible to say when exactly.  I – I don’t know when – if – I will do that out there, in real, there would certainly be issues… You know it all, J.’

‘I do, sir,’ the A.I. admits.

‘Now, lights down to 30% and play me some movie good for the occasion,’ Tony orders, and that is exactly what happens.

 

 

In the morning, Tony does recall what he’s been doing most of the evening and remembers perfectly what he did before he managed to get smashed: he is half expecting to turn on the TV to the news saying that Tony Stark is making charitable donations under a fake name, or something like that.

It doesn’t happen though; no one connects Nate and Tony, there is no reason for anyone to do so; none at all. No fucked up situation to deal with first thing in the morning, then, Tony could get used to that. There is this amazing freedom in doing whatever he wants without being judged, without questions, without analyzing his every movement, every word, every gesture.

Nate is just a random citizen and – nothing more.

Tony watches the donation being processed by the bank just after 0800 and when it’s all done, he calls Christine Everhart and tells her that he will agree to an individual interview as long as she won’t be asking about things Tony doesn’t want to talk about. That might be difficult, despite her declaration and promise. Tony knows the temptation is huge.

‘Let’s pick a date in about two weeks, Miss Everhart, so that we both can find some time and prepare – and I want to read your proposed list of topics by that time, would that be okay with you? We will go somewhere from there.’

‘Yes, Mister Stark,’ she assures him, voice excited, Tony can tell. She’s always been… the _enthusiastic_ one.

‘How does Sunday 13th work for you?’

‘Good. You choose what fits you, Mister Stark. I work on all days of the week, depending on the need, it can be a weekday or a weekend day… 13th is perfect.’

‘Please come to by house – you know where it is. Whenever you feel like, as for the hour, just let me know. I’ll be home all day.’

‘That will be perfect,’ Christine repeats, says goodbye and hangs up. Tony sighs into the now-silent phone.

‘Got something for the hangover, babe?’

‘Dummy has indeed – under my supervision – made _the_ smoothie for you. It should lessen the nausea and the problems with hydration and nourishment…’

‘I know this all by heart, J, it’s my own invention,’ Tony sighs. ‘Now, make Dummy move quicker ‘cause it’s the 1st _…_ I need to talk to my _team_ in that meeting and it would be nice to relieve the _symptoms_ a bit and give me some energy to act.’

‘Of course, sir,’ JARVIS agrees politely for once. ‘Shall I get the suit ready?’

‘Mark IV,’ Tony decides and takes the glass from Dummy, patting his head. 

By the time the suit is ready – a few moments – Tony has drank all of his shake and is putting on some more comfortable clothes to wear under the armor.

It’s just seven minutes flight to the HQ and as soon as Tony steps into the conference room – two minutes before time – everyone seems to be there already.

 _Must try ten minutes earlier,_ he muses. _I wonder if they are here so early because they basically live here, or if it’s just a routine._

‘We have two missions for you this month,’ Coulson tells him as soon as the doors are closed.‘One solo, one with the team, everyone but Hulk is in. Doctor Banner,’ the agent continues, nodding to Banner who offers him a small shy smile, ‘he will continue his usual research, we don’t have need to his particular skill set a this time.’

‘Of course,’ Iron Man replies, but the understanding in Tony’s real voice is lost on the computerized one. ‘Now, tell me what those missions are about,’ he adds, readying himself for an onslaught of information – and he is not disappointed.

It’s all so – exciting. Knowing your reasons and acting upon them, doing the right things… It almost feels, to Tony, like paying back, though it’s a bit different between Tony Stark and  Iron Man. Tony kind of wishes he could just leave SI behind and do superheroing 24/7 all year round, but he knows he has responsibilities towards _thousands_ of people. Nothing could be simple.

The first mission is the solo one, simple and quick when you can fly as easily as Iron Man can: the point is to retrieve an item that has been stolen from a S.H.I.E.L.D.’s research facility by some AIM spin-off organization of mutants living in the Antarctic. Normally, it would take a rather long time to do what Iron Man can do within half a day, especially that he doesn’t need to be careful: when he is safe with the thing – it has something to do with opening portals to other dimensions, Tony is _dying_ to know, but again, asking for details would be out of character – S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to destroy the base from the air – destroy it completely. Those guys have apparently created enough mess for a lifetime and Fury is not the most patient of all men.

‘You are the most mobile of the people I can chose from,’ Coulson tells Tony during the debrief; Tony knows that it’s one of Iron Man’s greatest abilities – and he just plain _loves_ flying. There are very few things he likes as much as being in the air, feeling free, bring away from everything; knowing that it all can happen thanks to his own hands’ work only makes it sweeter.

So, on Tuesday Tony Stark leaves work early, taking an afternoon off, the one meeting he had scheduled moved to the next week, and Iron Man flies to the Arctic, steals back the small object and then watches from the air, at a safe distance, how the whole complex blows up. The place seemed big, but there were only six people, Tony knows; JARVIS scanned it during the flight. Tony has seen those men when he flew inside – he has read their files – it’s _good_ that they are dead.

Iron Man quickly flies to the base, deposits the item into the safety of director Fury’s hands, and disappears.

Tony is too excited to sleep after the mission so he spends all night in the small workshop, analyzing projects waiting for his approval and reading reports – his usual office hours job – so that in the morning, after breakfast and generous serving of coffee, he can go straight to R&D and do the part – the only part – of his job that he really enjoys.

 

 

Christine comes on 13th, at 1100 hrs, wearing a blazer, shiny blouse underneath, skin-tight black jeans and awfully high heels, sporting a radiating smile that can’t hide her practiced curiosity when she, not so subtly, looks around more than she looks at Tony when he leads her to the library; it seems like a good place for a meeting. Dummy is waiting there with drinks and snacks. She’s met the bot before and wrote about him rather sweetly, not exactly common so Tony can appreciate that, even if the rest of the article was… annoying, that’s the best word.

But then, it’s been long time since Tony’s last interview – not for a scientific magazine and about scientific subjects _exclusively_ – that wasn’t at least mildly annoying.

‘There hasn’t been a proper interview with you, Mister Stark, since you came back from Afghanistan,’ she starts as they are seated by a small round table, steaming cups of coffee waiting; JARVIS remembers the journalist’s favorite, of course.

‘I thought we were on first name basis the last time we met, _Christine_ ,’ Tony comments, raising an eyebrow. ‘But yes. I didn’t feel like there was much to talk about – much that you all needed to know. Some things should be kept personal.’

‘That hasn’t been your policy before, _Tony_.’

‘Well, what can I say but _people change_ – don’t tell me people were naïve enough to think they knew everything about me… You just didn’t know what you didn’t know, so you accepted what you did know as the whole truth – and with Afghanistan happening, you suddenly knew you were missing a big chunk of my life story.’

‘If I ask what exactly happened there, will you tell me the truth?’

‘You’ve just asked,’ Tony laughs drily, gaining Christine’s smile and an expectant look. ‘I don’t particularly feel like sharing my memories, I am sure you can deduct why, but I will tell you a few things,’ Tony declares, drinking some of the coffee and putting a mini caramel tart into his mouth.

Then he answers the few questions they have agreed on via email before the meeting; it wasn’t really necessary, but Tony wanted some time to… figure out the right wording. Using the right words is nothing but a safety precaution when you deal with people like Christine – especially given that Tony doesn’t feel like having sex with her afterwards, what is surely going to be a surprise.

‘So, what can you tell me about Obadiah Stane?’ she asks when Tony is done with the three censored and carefully described Afghanistan stories.

‘I’m sure you are looking for something sensational – but I am not sure I can give you that,’ Tony says, leaning back in the chair. ‘There has been no difference as to how he has been before and after. The only reason why I even found out something was really wrong in SI was because I have been looking for some records regarding our arms’ shippings that were stopped when I came back. It was my intention to go over all the contract personally even though our legal team took care of the formalities.’

‘So, you _knew_ something was wrong, or you just found out by accident?’ Christine asks to clarify before taking a sip of the coffee.

‘I found out. I think Stane was a bit less careful, with me out of the picture – I haven’t been around SI until that confrontation with him, so it was almost nine month of a rather… free reign. For him. I just wanted to check one contract’s details and there was an encrypted file in the folder – and it went on from there.’

‘That must have felt terrible,’ Christine comment and Tony nods honestly, but says nothing. ‘And now, you are?...’

‘Now, I am trying my best at re-establishing Stark International’s leading market position because no matter what Stane did, there have been a lot of great things we’ve been working on over the years, with both private and military funding, before you ask. Most of the things we’ve been doing to aid countries battling with hunger – like out intelli-crops – military founding, sweetheart,’ Tony says, offering her a radiant smile. Christine smiles back and nod to herself. It means exactly nothing to Tony, could be good, but probably is bad; everything seems to end up _unfavorably_ , at least.

‘Can you tell me more about what SI is doing now?’ she asks and Tony breathes in relief; it’s nice to be asked about something serious once, even if they are bound to approach the subject of Tony’s new social life habits because Christine _is_ from Vanity Fair and not Harvard Business Review.

It takes Tony almost half an hour to say everything he wanted to say – Christine even appears interested, what a success – and then Tony asks JARVIS to have some lunch sent to them. Of course the talk finally has to be about girls and Tony’s _social_ _reclusion_ , how she calls it.

‘It doesn’t automatically mean that nothing is happening in my life, _baby_ , only because you don’t know that,’ Tony tells hers, taking off his tie. There are some scenes he still needs to act in. ‘Do you mind?’

She shakes her head for no and takes the mug with green tea into her hands, observing Tony like a predator.

‘I’ve been particularly busy these days, I am sure you can understand. I try to keep SI afloat, what is a bit tough these days with the things the media say about us, well, and me, an apparent collaborator and a liar – you know, it’s almost sweet how naïve it all is – but of course I could have expected that. Good publicity easily turns into bad publicity and people love the bad one much more, they thrive on scandals and problems and have no regard for reality. But you are a journalist, you know it very well,’ Tony adds, offering her another smile but she doesn’t look apologetic at all, not that Tony would expect that. ‘I am doing both my CEO job and Obie’s job at the moment, as well as acting as the head of R&D and working with them on several projects. Between court meetings and taking care of my… personal affairs. I don’t have much time for anything, hence the meeting on Sunday.’

‘Trying to gain the pity of the readers?’

‘Trying to make. Things. Straight,’ Tony drawls, stretching his legs in front of him. ‘I am a scientist and I despise speculation. I stand by facts and facts only and as long as something is an object of _research_ , I don’t talk about it as if it were the one and only truth. And that’s what you and colleagues have been doing, regarding the court case.’

‘So, the whole fault is journalists’ now?’ she asks, cocking her head and frowning a bit; Tony can feel her anticipation for an answer that would fit her story, but he can’t be bothered to analyze her right now.

‘No,’ Tony says firmly and she blinks, frowning even more. ‘No. It’s only my fault of thinking the world is a nice place and believing in people unconditionally. It was a kid’s behavior and it was irresponsible as hell. _Stupid_ as hell. Now I’ve gotta make up for that. If not to the public opinion, which I do care about but not enough to bother with trying get things straight with you all, it’s impossible, then with my employees and their families whose lives often depend on my decisions. The worst thing that could happen – just please, Christine, baby, don’t cut this line out – is Stark International falling, what the popular papers and etc. seem to want, seem to support at least, and it would end in the whole country being in a big trouble as we’re one of the biggest companies around. Your personal opinions, dear readers, don’t matter so much here and I realize I’m sounding like an asshole to a lot of you no. Given who you all consider me to be, you will probably think is a lie, but – _it’s not about me._ I’m a genius, I _could_ be billionaire without the company, but it’s not what I want.’

There isn’t much more talking after that. Christine has already asked all of her questions so after a few minutes of talking – Tony is fully aware she’s expecting an invitation to stay for the night – she realizes it’s all she can have, Tony’s words, and leaves after a quick goodbye.

Tony pours himself a generous serving of scotch, drinks it in four gulps, puts on a coat  – it’s raining – and walks to SI tower; it’s just a few minutes away on foot. In his personal workshop, he spends the rest of the day and most of the night working on overdue upgrades to the suit that he couldn’t find time for these last few weeks.

 

 

The middle of the month marks first follow-up checkup with Samski; it doesn’t take long and everything seems perfectly fine. The news makes Tony feel like he can finally relax a bit.

The new kind of relaxing technique is taking part in a S.H.I.E.L.D.; Tony _loves_ the thrill, the sense of purpose, the freedom, the actions that have actual visible outcomes, contrary to most of his frustrating everyday CEO-ing.

The mission is three days in Africa in order to capture half a dozen terrorists from a local group that S.H.I.E.L.D. has been tracking for months now. Spending such a long time with other people is not something Tony has done under new circumstances, but it’s exactly that he’s been working on at nights: taking care of all the bodily needs while in the suit because Tony is _not_ risking anyone even suspecting who is inside the Iron Man armor.

It all ends up with the terrorists captured, Hulk making an appearance, Hawkeye with a sprained ankle and lots of bruises because he’s been acting like his usual self, and Coulson getting mad over the comm; Tony _loves_ how his calm, emotionless and steady voice, interrupted by random static noises, can bear such strength and conviction; he can feel the hairs in his neck raise when the agent hisses his commands.

The rest of the team stays in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s Congo base as Iron Man attends a debrief, submits his report and flies back to the U.S. There are meetings that can’t wait for Tony Stark.

The first thing he does, though, when he is back in New York – mostly because it’s 2200 hrs local time – is make food, sit in the office and look over a letter he – well, Nate Rives – has received from Riverside Group Home, thanking for his donation and listing how the funds have been used. Satisfied with the outcome, Tony folds the letter and puts it back into the envelope.

‘J?’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘Make another 5,000 donation. Make it pending standing donation, I will confirm after the next report form them, if it’s satisfying.’

‘Request fulfilled, sir. Donation status: processing. The monthly donation pending review.’

‘Perfect, baby,’ Tony replies, sighing and massaging his temples, trying to soothe the headache building up in his temples. ‘Let’s have some fun with sleeping in a real bed,’ he tells himself, goes up to the bedroom and falls asleep without as much as taking all his clothes off.

 

 

The interview comes out in September issue what Tony thought would be rather impossible but apparently when it comes to _Tony Stark_ , anything can happen.

It’s… not as bad an Tony could have expected, but it’s typical Christine style – what means the usual _educated,_ middle-class targeted media style that Tony isn’t a big fan of, but he’s not a fan of lots of things when it comes to PR. At least she didn’t change his words or the context anywhere, so whatever the comments about the interview are refers to the _real Tony_.

Coulson doesn’t have any job planned for the month – something could always happen of course – so he tells Iron Man that it would be good, probably, if he did two or three of the trips everything started with: S.H.I.E.L.D. has been monitoring activities in the Middle East and it seems like there are a few places there that still use SI arms.

‘I will be very happy to,’ Iron Man says, losing Tony’s voice’s firm conviction when filtered through the helmet.

 

 

Soon comes another letter from the Riverside, together with a statement of how the second donation was spent; Tony is happy with what they’ve been doing.

‘Confirm the standing donation, J,’ he tells the A.I. ‘I wish I could give them more, come on, these people are so – genuine.’

‘I would look suspicious, sir,’ JARVIS says and Tony nods.

‘I know, baby. We need to lay low, lay low for now, and I will think of something later maybe… Let’s move on to test flight with the new repulsors for now,’ Tony changes the subject, putting the last piece of a sandwich into his mouth and standing up to put on the armor.

‘Everything ready, sir,’ JARVIS replies. Tony nods and lets the suit wrap around his body.

It’s an incredible feeling to be a superhero.

 

 

After the second trip to Iraq Iron Man comes to S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ for a debrief but Coulson is in an emergency meeting with Fury and WSC, so he has to wait. Tony took a day off for the mission – he left on Sunday, came back today in morning – so he doesn’t have anywhere to run to in the afternoon.

He is using his time waiting in the usual conference room for work: JARVIS shows his some specs on the HUD display and Tony comments and  tells the A.I. what to mark red for further inspection.

After a few minutes someone steps into the room and it’s not Coulson – it’s Banner who seems to freeze in half-movement when he notices Iron Man standing by the window, appearing to be looking out onto the lovely view of New York in early afternoon sun.

‘Come on, don’t mind me,’ Iron Man says; Tony wants to add _I’m not gonna bite_ or something like that. He wants to talk with Banner about the man’s work, the things he did before the Hulk and what he is doing now for S.H.I.E.L.D. – apparently as a part of the team working on dimensional travel besides his study on radiation. But he doesn’t.

‘Thank you,’ the man says and closes the door behind himself.

‘I know you came because I am here,’ Iron Man states, turning around to face the man who shuffles his feet a bit and tries to look completely innocent. He’s doing pretty well, with his cute curly hair and the small smile. ‘Anything particular you wanted?’

‘I’m not sure?’ Banner more asks that states, running a hand through his hair and coming up to the table to sit by it. ‘I mean, you know, you fascinate me, in a way…’

‘Oh?’

‘You certainly are a self-made hero, right? I mean, I’ve read your file which is almost completely empty prior to when you started to work with us in the Avengers, but it says you are, according to your own words, just a man under the suit.’

‘Yes. I am just a man underneath, but I’m not the only one, right? Hawkeye is nothing more than a human, no radiation, no mutations, no strange serums, no nothing…’

‘Sometimes I wonder,’ Banner says with a sigh. ‘I don’t know, it’s just that I can’t stop wondering who you are in real life –’

‘Do you know who Spider Man is?’ Tony cuts in; he himself doesn’t have an idea but then he’s never really looked for an answer.

‘I know he’s a scientist,’ Banner replies and Tony’s eyebrows raise, but Iron Man remains unmoving. ‘He told me that,’ Banner continues, playing with a min Rubik’s cube he produced seemingly from nowhere. ‘Of course, I don’t have any reason to believe him because it’s only his words, but he doesn’t have any reason to lie to me, either. He could lie to S.H.I.E.L.D. maybe, but he trusts me more than I feel comfortable with.’

‘You have a charming personality,’ Tony tells the man and it’s the truth; Banner is self-conscious and shy at times, but painfully clever and witty much more often. He always looks innocent and self-contained, but Tony knows he loves verbal sparring with Spider Man and playing stupid video games with Barton; he is sure they don’t know that he knows, though. They have all been a team for some time before he came aboard and most of them live in the same building, so there is something alike friendship there; Iron Man is somewhere in the background, at distance, and it’s Tony’s choice, too. He doesn’t trust himself enough to act convincingly around people he would call _friends_.

That’s the thing Doc keeps reminding him: he changes his attitude too much when it comes to people he cares about a lot. So better prevent it and stay cautious.

He can’t do anything that would make people anyhow connect Iron Man and Tony Stark.

Banner laughs at the comment – well, it’s more of a cackle what Tony decides is incredible.

‘You might be the only one to say that.’

‘I think both you and Hulk charming personalities, even if the other guy isn’t fond of anything much, well, other than Hawkeye,’ Iron Man offers and JARVIS makes the voice a bit softer than normally. Banner smirks.

‘I don’t really get how it works, but you’re right,’ he admits, running a hand through his hair again and looks at the door. ‘Well. I’m not sure what exactly I am doing here, so –’

‘I am no one particular,’ Iron Man interjects, making Banner frown and look up sharply. ‘Underneath the suit. There is no great mystery to it. I’m a neat engineer, you can guess given that this,’ Tony raises the mechanical arms, ‘is 100% my own work.’

There, an answer that is true, logical, and won’t make everyone think about Tony Stark straight away, because Tony has never done anything similar. He’s good at robots, he is most famous for robots and weapons, and Iron Man made just a suit that uses a power source that no one has seen anywhere before.

‘This is an incredible thing,’ Banner comments, eying the suit from head to toes. ‘I mean, you can _fly_ , how amazing is that? That’s exactly what most of the sci-fi books are about, that’s what people have been dreaming about for centuries, and you’re the first one who successfully managed to create a way to fly freely. Chapeau bas, Iron Man.’

Tony smiles inside the suit, feeling a pleasant warm feeling in his stomach; it’s been a long time since someone has told him something as nice as that. His tech has always been praised, sure, even if Howard and Stane wanted more, better, quicker; but it’s rare to hear someone say a compliment with such passion and genuineness.

‘Thank you,’ Iron Man says and inclines his head. ‘This means a lot to me,’ he adds truthfully. ‘I wish I could show other people how it feels to fly, but – you understand, not now, this tech is too vulnerable – maybe sometime in the future.’

‘Don’t feel obliged,’ Banner tells him. ‘You know, the other guy can _almost_ fly when he jumps like he does. Pity I can hardly remember – well, that one thing. Most of what he does is…’ he stops there, shaking his head. ‘Anyway. I just wanted to say I’m glad you’re on the team. It’s been some time – almost four months now, right? – and we never get the chance to talk, really, just a bit when we were in Africa. I know you don’t live here like we do, and you have other preoccupations, but if you feel like talking, you know where to find us – I am sure the others would like that, too.’

‘I will keep that in mind,’ Tony says, really intending to, and just then Coulson enters the room, coffee mug in one hand, a stack of files in another, balancing everything with perfect grace. He doesn’t seem surprised at all by the fact that Banner is there.

‘I’m sorry to have kept you waiting – WSC is being a bunch of morons, pardon my language, I spend too much time with Director – let’s go over your report quickly. I’ve got another slip for you, too,’ the agent says as he places his belonging on the table and sits down. Banner waves Iron Man a goodbye and disappears soundlessly, closing the door behind himself.

In the end Iron Man gets a magical mission green light for another trip, this time to North Africa, where SI weapons are creating a bit of a mess.

Tony goes there during the last weekend of the month; he is happy to do his job and, in a way at least, fix his mistakes; it always feels good to do the right thing, no matter what the papers say. But he is just tired with everything; there has been another court meeting, Pepper and Happy testified and Tony _hated_ watching them attacked by Stane’s attorney; sure, they were composed, professional and said nothing but truth, but it was still nothing nice to experience and Tony felt sorry for dragging them into the whole situation.

All that makes SI stock stuck in one place that is not exactly favorable; it’s not _terrible_ , but no matter what Tony tries to do, he can’t make them raise and he _needs_ them to raise to improve the situation of the company.

 

 

October 1st is the usual Avengers meeting and this time Spider Man is not there, so it’s just Banner, Romanov and Barton. There isn’t anything planned for the month, other than whatever the agents usually do, but it’s not Avengers business so it’s not the team’s concern. When the meeting is over, Banner looks as if he wanted to stop Iron Man – and Tony would stay to talk, but he has a meeting at 1300 hrs that he _cannot_ be late for because it’s with a big investor whose involvement could help SI considerably.

So Iron Man disappears and Tony Stark goes to the meeting, in a smart black suit, hair and goatee perfectly trimmed, the usual smile on his face. He charms the man thoroughly and finds himself surprised – given the current running opinions about SI and Tony – that someone, despite a careful and questioning approach towards the whole project, can treat him, _Stark_ , with respect and fascination. Although Tony knows it shouldn’t be something special, he thinks he really doesn’t deserve the treatment he’s getting.

The one good thing is that after the hearing in which Pepper testified, the media have been nice to her. Well, being nice meaning saying that she’s been forced to work with Tony, forced to put up with his crazy stunts over the years, that she was a bit depended on the whole situation, that he’s been unprofessional and an asshole – Tony’s words, and he knows they are right to some extent – and she’s now regarded almost as a victim, what she publicly disagrees with, but Tony doesn’t mind as long as she’s in good graces.

 

 

The second Saturday of October, it’s the 14th, Tony takes a day off for a meeting with Samski; it takes place in the same place as always, a branch of that L.A. clinic that Tony has trusted for years where Doc is working now.

He has blood drawn early in the morning, like always, by a familiar nurse whose name he can’t remember, and comes back for the appointment in the afternoon, soon after the doctor arrives to the clinic from the airport.

As soon as he walks into the room, he knows something is wrong. He just _knows_.

‘Your blood results are not okay, Tony – sit down,’ the doctor states straight away, taking the papers and showing them to Tony who sits down and stays unmoving, staring at the numbers on the papers. ‘Tony?’ Samski calls him, raising his voice a bit. ‘Tony? You okay?’

‘Yeah,’ Tony breathes, not moving an inch.

‘I need to do tumor markers from blood. Now, okay? Tony?’

 _Stop fucking call my name as if I were going into shock or something_ , Tony snaps in his head, but keeps silent, only nodding and tearing his gaze away from the little slip of paper that means so fucking much.

‘But I haven’t felt bad, nothing at all, I’ve been looking out for symptoms –’

‘I know,’ Samski assures him. ‘I know, this can be nothing, we just need a check. Come on. Let’s get the blood drawn. We’ll have the results in three hours.’

Tony obeys, walking after the man back to the nurse’s room and getting more blood taken by the same smiling woman, from the other arm this time.

He doesn’t know how he manages to endure the three hours without going crazy; it might have something to do with Doc coming over, since he works in the same building. Tony knows the man cancelled the rest of his appointments for the afternoon.

Doc brings a couple of _games_ , of all things, and challenges Tony into beating the other in Connect Four; it almost always ends in a draw between them – even when using the biggest size, 10x7, so both are quite determined to prove their superiority.

Doc wins three times and Tony wins two, out of total thirty two games they play.

‘You know it’s not fair,’ Tony pouts; his voice is quiet but his behavior slightly exaggerated, he is aware of that; he always does that when he was anxious.

‘We’ll have a rematch sometime,’ Doc assures him and ignores Samski slipping out of the room to get the results; he doctor been sitting on the sofa and reading a book the whole time, snickering now and then at Tony and Doc’s antics.

Samski’s face is completely blank when he enters the room, he doesn’t even have to say anything. For a moment Tony feels as if he was going to faint but he doesn’t.

‘We’ll just do an ultrasound now,’ Samski says and gestures at Tony and Doc to follow. ‘And then we’ll decide is we need another test later.’

‘Sure,’ Tony agrees. His throat feels painfully dry; he knows his voice is scratchy and rough.

He hates the cold feeling of the get on his stomach and the way the machine touches his body; he hates _every-fucking-thing_ about this situation and he hates not knowing, not knowing yet and – he really, really hasn’t been feeling bad, just tired but with all his work he’d have to be inhuman not to feel tired, and –

‘There,’ Samski says, showing something to Doc on the screen. ‘I am sorry,’ he tells Tony and Tony does his best not to start laughing hysterically, but he only manages that for a minute or two more, until the examination is done. Doc wraps his arm around Tony’s back and lets him laugh. Cry. Something.

‘We will need CT and ERCP to decide what to do – but the soonest we can do that on Monday. Monday morning. I will make sure I can be here, okay, Tony?’ Samski asks, eying Tony with concern; at least he’s managed to calm down a bit.

‘Okay. Of course. Monday morning,’ Tony repeats, trying to remember what is he’s got scheduled for Monday morning but his brain doesn’t want to cooperate.

A few minutes later Samski leaves, since there is nothing to be done at the moment and it’s around 2000 hrs already. Tony and Doc stay in the room for some time before Tony shrugs the man’s arm off his shoulders and stands up.

‘I will go now,’ he states, testing out his voice. It’s a bit thicker than he’d like, but will do.

‘Are you sure you will be okay?’

‘Yeah,’ Tony replies shortly, walking out of the room and back to the entrance hall; everything he has is on himself. Doc follows him.

‘It doesn’t look bad, Tony,’ Doc tells Tony just before he leaves. ‘Don’t panic. I’m sure it will be just like the first time. We’ll make it quick and easy, okay?’

‘Hope so,’ Tony says, gives Doc a wave and disappears.

In the car, Tony tells JARVIS everything as the A.I. hasn’t been _present_ in the clinic and – well, he feels like he needs to talk, say it out loud. The A.I. is his perfectly charming self.

Back in the apartment, Tony leaves a note via JARVIS for Happy who is out of town, and for Pepper who is having – a date, if Tony understood correctly – saying that he needs to get away for a few days and will be back on Wednesday.

He will tell Happy, just – in person. Later.

‘JARVIS, get me the Mark V ready. Malibu ETA?’

‘Two hours, twenty minutes with current meteorological situation, sir. Are you sure this is wise?’

‘I need to get away from this place. Do you know that nothing good has ever happened to me in New York?’ Tony asks, packing his documents into a pocket inside the suit and gives JARVIS a sign to wrap it around him.

‘What about the Avengers?’ JARVIS questions, running a quick check and giving Tony a green light to fly.

‘Yeah, them… Well, I guess. Though most of the things we do _for the good_ are out of the city, well, out of the country even.’

‘That is true,’ JARVIS agrees and just then Tony flies through a window the A.I. has just opened, reflection panels engaged and the armor mostly invisible to potential observers. It’s probably a stupid idea, taking off from a place where Tony Stark lives, but Tony can’t bring himself to care at the moment.

When he arrives in Malibu, it’s very late evening, sky clear and full of starts – Tony hasn’t realized he’s missed them that much, he doesn’t have a lot of time to think about it in New York – and it’s considerably warmer.

Tony spends the night walking along the shore, his feet getting wet and cold; he’s not really thinking about anything in particular, letting his thoughts fly, letting them pass through his head freely; he stares at the stars over the sea and reflected in its ever-moving surface, he listens to the wind swirling around and the ocean’s murmur that he hasn’t realized he’s missed so much, _so much_.

He’s never considered himself sentimental, but it’s been lie.

Or maybe it’s just a thing you learn when you grow up.

Tony spends most of Sunday sleeping, after having taken some sleeping pills that knock him out – otherwise it’d never happen – and the next evening and night he spends walking along the shoreline again, until his legs and back and his chest around the reactor all hurt, until his feet are all wrinkled from the water, until he’s too exhausted to think.

It feels perfect, not thinking, not analyzing, not calculating; it feels blissful and incredible and Tony wishes he could just stay like this forever.

The ocean is soothing enough to stop him from panicking; it did its job back after Afghanistan, when he was having flashbacks. The immense tranquility seems to wrap itself around him yet again and it’s almost good.

 

 

On Monday, 0800 hrs sharp, Tony is waiting for Samski to come, a bag on the floor next to him. The doctor is five minutes late but Tony decides to forgive him that.

CT and ERCP are familiar; Tony appreciates the doctor’s effort to make him feel at ease when he is put into a private room after the second procedure, just like the first time.

Samski comes an hour later.

‘Sorry it took that long,’ he says, sitting at the edge of Tony’s bed. ‘I wanted to consults,’ he adds and Tony’s stomach twists painfully. _Consult_ , it means something is wrong enough that one doctor can’t make the right decision.

It’s exaggerating and panicking but Tony can’t make himself not do that.

‘The tumor has appeared in a slightly different place than before, here,’ Samski shows an area on the printout. ‘It is stage 2A, there is some tissue here – and here – affected,’ he adds, pointing to another places. ‘It’s bigger than the first tumor, which is atypical; usually, it takes it a long time to grow to this size… And I am sure we haven’t missed anything. Given how it looks currently, we can’t do a surgery –’

Tony is glad he is drowsy after the ERCP anesthesia – and in half lying position – because really does feel like he’s going to faint this time –

‘Tony, calm down, you’re breathing too fast,’ he hears Doc’s words and the man’s hands wrap around his shoulders. ‘Calm. Down. You’re gonna be okay, right? We will do everything that is possible. Don’t worry. You’re in the best hands. You. Will. Be. Okay,’ Doc says firmly, his voice loud and almost making Tony’s head hurt, but he trusts the man and manages to calm down slowly.

He knows he shouldn’t, he knows it’s all lies, but believing in them is – is okay. For now.

‘We will give you radiation, two courses for three weeks, one week break – that’s what I consulted – and it should make the tumor smaller; it won’t go away, but it should enable us to remove it surgically. You might need a major surgery this time, maybe partial liver resection, maybe Whipple’s – we will decide about that after the radiotherapy – so no worrying about that now. All right?’

Tony nods.

‘Do you understand what I have just told you?’

‘Yes,’ Tony verbalizes, his voice surprisingly strong. ‘Yes. Okay. When do I start?’

‘On Monday,’ Samski replies, but he’s a bit more reluctant this time. Tony frowns. Doc doesn’t move. ‘But I – I can’t be your doctor now, Tony. I am sorry – don’t get me wrong. But I have work and family in L.A. and I would need to be here, I can’t come here on daily basis.’

‘It’s okay,’ Tony assures the man. It really is, he understands; he is even glad that the man doesn’t want to make the wrong decision to help Tony at his family’s expenses. Tony would never let him, anyway.

‘I will handle your case over to one of the doctors I consulted with. Doctor Levy, she is one of the best specialists – I would say she is better than me, so I feel comfortable with recommending her. Do you agree to that?’

‘Yeah, I guess…’

‘I will call her and ask when she’s available, okay?’

‘All right,’ Tony agrees again and gives Doc a weak smile. ‘She at least pretty?’

‘I think she is, you know, rather young for such a good doctor. Pretty, well, you will see,’ Doc tells him and looks around the room. ‘Connect four?’

‘If you insist,’ Tony replies rolling his eyes. Samski leaves the room and comes back a few minutes later.

‘Doctor Levy said she can come over today evening. Here. After she’s agreed take over my case, just based on the consultation and the history of your treatment – I told her it’s about _you._ That’s okay, right?’

‘She would learn that anyway,’ Tony admits, sighing. ‘Did she freak out?’

‘She just said _fuck_ several times, and then she called you _the poor little bastard_.’

‘I think I like her already,’ Tony decides.

Doc stays all afternoon and evening and it’s more than Tony hoped for.

Levy comes at seven sharp; first she goes to talk with Samski, Tony knows, since the man has a plane back home soon; and the she comes into the room, bearing Tony’s documentation and a giant handbag. She _is_ rather pretty, even if not Tony’s usual type: medium-height, a bit on the chubby side, brown hair, freckles, hazelnut eyes, wearing a simple shirt and jeans, no high heels in sight.

‘Your life is a mess, isn’t it?’ is the first thing she says to Tony pulling a chair closer to his bed and placing her bag and the folders on the table. Tony chuckles and she flashes him a grin. ‘So, I’ve read all your medical documentation…’ she starts and Tony discovers how it is to meet a person that _doesn’t stop talking_ , well, a person other than himself.

She answers all of his questions honestly, even the _problematic_ ones, and Tony is so fucking thankful for that. It takes a long time and it’s almost half past nine when Tony’s out of things to ask about. She tells him the radiation he’ll get now will be different kind and it doesn’t have more side effects normally, but given that he’ll simple get _more_ , he’s more likely to suffer from stomach problems: nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and will be more tired, obviously. Tony can hardly imagine more tired but well, he’ll just need to get used to it.

‘I will see you on Monday, then,’ she says before she leaves. Tony nods in acknowledgement.

He goes home, too, but he can’t sleep, so instead of the rest he is supposed to be getting, he goes down to the library and tries to figure out what to do with his life now.

 

 

On Wednesday morning – Tony’s managers to get full four hours of sleep, more than he’ expected – he goes to work as if nothing has happened and refuses to give Pepper any answers because he hasn’t decided yet how to resolve the whole situation. There are so many thing that need to be taken into consideration that it’s hard to make the pieces fit.

Tony end up doing one thing that seems quite silly, but in the end helps him a lot: he looks for answers in the internet. It’s surprising how many amazing things people share there, he decides.

The magical method that works for him turns out to be something he’s failed to come up with by himself, even though it is rather logical and obvious: a simple list of priorities. Tony decides to be completely honest with himself because really, it’s not a time for games.

So, Iron Man is pretty close to the top. Well, doing good things is pretty close to the top, or maybe at the top, and Iron Man is just a tool – just like Rives. And it’s Nate’s identity, Tony realizes, that gives him most satisfaction, even though it’s always been nothing more than backup, because there are _no expectations_. None at all. It might be silly, but he feels – attached to the way he created the man to be; it’s Tony Stark’s public persona’s opposite on so many levels and it feels _right_.

 _You have everything – and nothing_ , Yinsen said and Tony will _never_ forget that. Tony Stark has everything and nothing.

Iron Man is – he is an Avenger and a superhero, but a man whose identity cannot be revealed, and any kind of relationship he might create will be limited to his teammates and maybe other S.H.I.E.L.D.’s agents. And that’s – limiting. It’s good at times, but not all the time… Iron Man does big things, but it’s not every day, and the time in between – it must be filled with something.

And Stark International and the whole deal, Tony finally admits to himself, it’s nothing but a burden at this point. The government still wants Tony to go back to producing weapons, the masses want him to say that he was wrong and that he is at fault when it comes to the scandal and he won’t, the media keep bashing him – that’s not too bad – and the company – that’s much worse – and even though they all work hard. Tony is not going to be able to work hard enough, though, he realizes, it’ll be a miracle if he manages to work his current schedule around the radiotherapy… And the ongoing trial makes the business world generally mistrustful. It’s all blown out of proportion, but it’s kind of _the higher you fly the further you fall_ situation.

Tony murmurs that to himself and suddenly, he knows he has this most brilliant idea ever.

‘Give the fucking crowd what it wants,’ Tony tells JARVIS with a gleeful smile.

‘I’m not sure what you mean, sir,’ the A.I. replies quickly. Means worried.

‘You know what they all want? They want to see me fall, because it’s spectacular and that’s how human nature works, even if you wouldn’t know yourself, baby. Everyone loves seeing other people’s tragedies, it makes you feel better. Stronger. Proud of yourself that it’s not you.’

‘I’m still not sure –’

‘Patience, baby,’ Tony laughs. ‘Remember what they’ve been saying about me? For _years_? So, I’ve been a sex addict, a drug addict, an alcoholic, I’ve been unstable and insane – that’s been a thing after Afghanistan – we can give them some of that. One thing at least.’

‘Sir, what you’re trying to say is –’

‘That I am going to… sabotage myself, in a way? Yes. That’s what I’m trying to say,’ Tony admits and laughs. It _is_ , undeniably, a bit hysterical, but he feels strangely – free.

‘There is no logic in that, sir.’

‘There is a twisted logic in that, J,’ Tony explains, the grin plastered on his face. ‘You know I’ve been… not too well since I came back from Afghanistan and you know why. I’ve been doing everything possible to make SI go back to what it’s been before, to make things right… But all of that’s been just – you know. They hated it. All the comments, all the mistrust, all the imagined problems, I’ve been trying to deal with it, but once you’ve fallen out of grace, well. You’re fucked. And Stane’s trial just makes it a continuous trouble because people keep being reminded,’ Tony says with a sigh. ‘I didn’t manage to make difference for what, ten months? Doing all I could. And now, I – I won’t be able to. It’s going to end badly and I _cannot_ let those morons on board or anyone take SI away from me and turn it into whatever they might want. Something I would hate.’

‘So, you will ask miss Potts?’ JARVIS deduces, gaining another smile.

‘No, not exactly. I’m not going to ask her, really. She has good publicity, but she needs to be cut off from me openly, she must be placed on the opposite side – and I know exactly how to do that. It’s gonna hurt, sure, and I’ll hate doing that to Pepper  – and to Rhodey, don’t’ forget Rhodey, he will be back from his mission in January – but they of all people needs to believable or nothing will work…’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘Like I said: give the wolves what they want. Stage everything the way that no one will know. Be the once in control – and that’s what I intend to do.’

‘ _Sir_?’

‘I’m gonna disappear, baby,’ Tony tells JARVIS seriously. ‘Maybe it’s a coward’s way out, but I’m not above being a coward now.’

‘You are everything but, sir,’ the A.I. assures Tony.

 

 

Telling Happy – because Tony’s decided to tell the man _everything_ – is… a strange thing.

The man doesn’t interrupt, but when Tony finishes, Happy first punches him, making his nose bleed, then brings an ice pack, makes Tony lay down and tells him that everything will be all right.

And then declares that he is going to go with him.

‘There will be no position here for me, since I am your personal bodyguard,’ Happy says. It does make sense, even if Tony doesn’t like that. ‘And no, I am not going to leave you alone in this situation, boss.’

‘If you have a love confession to make, do it quickly,’ Tony replies, making the man snicker. ‘You don’t have to,’ he adds softly.

‘I know I don’t have to, we’ve been through this so many times. I _want_ to. Just one thing – is it going to be… permanent? Forever?’

‘I don’t know. It depends on the –’ Tony pauses unsurely, making a face, ‘– the cancer, I guess. I haven’t been really thinking too far into the future. You know.’

‘Okay,’ Happy agrees. ‘Got it. Do you need some help right now?’

‘The thing I have to do is the opening scene of the play now. It’s gonna be short and dramatic – the play. I have three months for it, tops, before I want to be out of here.’

‘Soo, a party?’ Happy questions after a short pause, giving JARVIS look; the A.I., as if he was reading minds, shows the list of all of Tony’s invitations to places and events.

‘Something soon?’

‘November 4th, Saturday, there is a 70th birthday party of the CEO of Flock’s Enterprises… You could make an appearance, boss. He’s gonna have lots of good alcohol to pretend to get drunk with, he’s a connoisseur.’

‘I’ll tell Pepper to make it happen,’ Tony replies. That should work.

 

 

Monday 23rd is Tony’s first radiotherapy and it goes okay. It’s long and annoying, with a few new dots on his abdomen, but he feels okay afterwards.

Tony decides that coming to work late – at 1000 hrs instead of 0800 hrs, since he has the radiation first thing in the morning – is only going to make his story look more believable; it’s doing just what he did when he was younger and spend evenings alternating between drinks and girls. The two hours don’t change that much, overall: Tony is working on his personal projects at home, so all he does in SI is the boring things. Everything feels a bit different, a bit more bearable, now that he knows he will not be doing that for _years_. Just a couple of months.

At least the new employees – well, not so new now, the group Tony has hired in summer – are doing very well and their projects are being appreciated. A couple more of those people to hire and Pepper will have a team that will manage to come up with enough ideas for SI to stay at the top, technologically, even without Tony’s input.

There are so many things he needs to wrap up – and the strange thing is, all this farce, all this game, all this madness, it seems natural. It seems quite right.

 

 

Iron Man appears at the monthly meeting normally. It takes place on November 2nd as Coulson has been away somewhere, and everyone is present this time. Iron Man and gets a solo mission; it’s a hostage recovery again, he’s the man for the job, _the sooner the better_ , so he leaves just after the meeting and comes back home a few hours before the party.

Pepper is mad at him for disappearing even though he answered of her calls claiming he had this greatest idea and he locked himself down in the workshop; JARVIS will keep his secret safe. Luckily he does have a few projects in reserve for situations like this, so he send her the project info and the bribe works – at least relatively well.

At the party, Tony is a social butterfly, _almost_ stealing the spotlight from the _birthday boy_ himself, but he doesn’t cross the line. He drinks a bit and pretends to drink a lot, more than he should, and acts accordingly.

There were at least three people in his life who told him he’d make an even better actor than he is an engineer. That’s pretty accurate.

Tony can’t bring himself to be embarrassed when he is supposedly acting out of order, nothing too crazy, but his voice is a bit too loud and his movements a tad too chaotic; it all  works perfectly. People stare and whisper, Pepper  orders him to calm down and finally walks him out of the ball, charming smile on her face, well before midnight.

‘I love you, Peppy,’ he murmurs as she shoves him into the limousine. The words are a little slurred, exactly as they should be, and as genuine as it goes.

‘You always say that when you are drunk,’ she replies, shutting the door behind herself.

‘Mhmmmm,’ Tony murmurs, trying to rest his head on her shoulder but she moves away and he flinches groggily. It’s an exhausting game, but Tony decides he’s doing very well. And Happy must have _a lot_ of fun, even if he keeps his face totally straight.

Sunday morning, Tony is greeted with the three brunettes commenting the party and his behavior – _clearly, going back to his old habits_ , _overusing alcohol_ , _is he really capable of being a CEO right now_ , that kind of thing – and for the first time he is happy with that they are doing.

It won’t really make the stocks drop that much, he knows, and when Pepper takes over SI, everything will work out fine because she’s a miracle on two long legs.

For the next few days, he makes point of acting slightly odd, appearing slightly disheveled, all the jazz, and the gossip magazines are slowly picking the bait.

 _Perfect_ , Tony decides. Painful but _perfect_.

 

 

On 20th Tony – well, Nate Rives – gets a letter from Riverside, yet again thanking him for the donation and offering him a visit to the place he’s supporting, but he says he has to refuse for now. He is supposedly living in London, anyway.

The same day Tony starts the other three weeks of radiotherapy; it appears to be working fine, according to Levy. A week of break was not enough for the nausea he’s been experiencing to go away completely, but at least that is nothing worse than that. Not yet, at least.

And not for long.

Three days into the course, Tony goes back home instead of going to work, and spends most of the day hunched over the toilet bowl. JARVIS tells Pepper Tony’s locked himself down in the workshop again – the best way to make her stay out of his house – and calls Happy, who’s been running errands.

Happy stays with Tony all afternoon, giving him electrolytes mixture and entertaining Tony by reading him news from trash gossip magazines, the titles mostly along _Has Tony Stark really changed?_ or _Tony Stark out of control again_ and maybe _Has the pressure done it to him this time_?

‘It’s cruel,’ Tony rasps out at some point, making Happy blink in confusion. ‘It hurts when I laugh,’ he explains. Happy just rolls his eyes and continues reading anyway.

The next day isn’t much better, but Tony gets an antiemetic and it helps; he can’t really look at food but at least he’s not throwing up all the time. He goes to SI for a few hours, does his usual routine twice as quickly as normally, and leaves in hurry only to spend the rest of the day in bed.

Friday isn’t any better either – and around 1300 hrs Iron Man gets a call from Coulson; it’s an emergency: some of AIM’s rogue robots seem to be attacking a small town in Pennsylvania.

Tony gets up from the bed feeling a bit dizzy, but before he can even dress himself, JARVIS sends the information to Coulson that Iron Man cannot come.

‘ _What. The. Fuck_?’ Tony asks, his voice too calm, stressing each word separately, ignoring how the words echo in his head when he says them.

‘You are in no condition to fight, sir,’ JARVIS replies calmly. ‘I cannot let you fly into a battle in this state.’

‘They need me – they need Iron Man!,’ Tony exclaims, standing up and walking to the wardrobe just a bit unsteadily.

‘Sir, be rational. Agent Coulson assured you that if you are unable to respond to as assemble call, it’s acceptable. I’ve just had a look at what’s happening there: they will easily manage without you. The Hulk is enough to keep the robots contained.’

‘But it’s going to take them time to get there –’

‘The team is halfway already, ETA seven minutes. It’s _Pennsylvania_ and we are in New York, sir,’ JARVIS adds sassily, making Tony crack a smile. 

‘Okay,’ Tony breathes after a moment of pause. ‘Okay.’

It would be okay if the same thing hasn’t happened the next week, too, and Tony can’t go again – this time he wouldn’t even dream of it, he’s quite sure than any kind of violent movement like flying and fighting would make him vomit even after the antiemetic, and inside the suits that – _gross_. And a very bad idea.

Coulson says it’s no problem, but of course the problem – again, again, again – is the media. Tony is okay with the Tony Stark being commented, since he’s playing his part perfectly well, but the newspapers are questioning _Where is Iron Man?_ and accusing him of not treating his role – privileged role – as an Avenger seriously; someone even writes it’s almost treason, but at least that’s too drastic for people to believe in.

The second week is better, Tony doesn’t understand why but he’s thankful for that. He appears at work almost normally, supervises projects, goes to board meetings and business meetings and all that – making an point of keeping his game: it’s about creating an illusion of appearing to be a bit drunk and trying to hide it, while in truth it’s the other way round.

With his personal history – that’s a bit sad, probably – it isn’t difficult to make people believe the act. _Stage everything the way that no one will know_.

He is fully aware he doesn’t have to do that and there is still backing away, but the last thing he wants is everybody’s pity. It’s better to have them believe he’s only continuing the family tradition; it’s an open secret that Howard has been drunk-driving that night when he and Maria died.

It’s better this way.

 

 

Besides taking care of Tony Stark’s gossip life, Nate Rives’ affairs and Iron Man, Tony knows he needs to prepare a good base for Pepper’s future rule in Stark International, what means executing his initial plan at making them appear on opposite sides _in public._

Easy thing: agree to an interview on TV together with Pepper, regarding SI and the current gossip, and make it another part of the game. It’s cruel to – _use_ her that way, Tony knows, but he _has to._ He will tell her the truth a month or two after Tony Stark is off the scene, that sounds like a safe period of time.

That’s exactly what Tony does; Pepper seems happy with his decision even though he refuses to talk through the questions beforehand; Tony tells her that _he is a grown boy._ She laughs it off, obviously, because he’s been behaving a lot unlike that, even though he’s been more responsible than ever before overall.

It’s just this last month that is the problem, she says.

‘Do you have some problem, Tony? Is something wrong?’ she asks him the night before they go on TV, when she brings him some papers to sign. ‘You can tell me, you know that.’

‘It’s okay, Pepper, I’ve never been better,’ Tony assures her, what makes her stare at him suspiciously. ‘No, _really_ ,’ he lies further, acting perfectly in character. He hates lying, but in this case, well, it’s impossible _not_ to. Tony kind of hates himself for that but – it’s all on purpose.

‘You’ve been drinking a lot –’

‘I have always been drinking a lot –’

‘– more than usually. Well, more than usually _recently_. You know what I mean.’

‘You exaggerate, Pepper. A one situation or two –’

‘You promised me you’d act responsibly and you are not doing that.’

‘I try to,’ Tony says and it’s true, it is honest and raw and she blinks at that in his voice. Mix lies with truth and it’ll be the best to make them believe in everything.

‘Okay,’ she sighs, taking the papers he’s just signed. ‘Okay. Just do what is best for you and for Stark International tomorrow, okay? We need some good word about you.’

‘I promise,’ Tony says with conviction and Pepper seems satisfied, only that she doesn’t know how completely different their visions of _the best_ are.

‘I will miss Pepper,’ Tony tells JARVIS as he’s dressing up for the interview the next evening. Dark green suit, beige shirt, no tie, all perfectly _in style_ for Tony Stark. ‘I am so fucking alone and it’s all my fault,’  he murmurs. JARVIS doesn’t reply. ‘Keep an eye on her for me, okay?’

‘Of course, sir,’ the A.I. replies straight away. Tony gives the last look to his reflection in the mirror and nods approvingly; he grabs his wallet, a bottle of water and goes down to the garage where Happy is waiting for him in the car.

‘Act two, scene one?’ he asks, making Tony snicker. It’s a bit too hysterical for his liking, a bit too panicked – it’s just a bit scary to think he’s just breaking his own life in to pieces, even though he is sure that it will be better afterwards, that he will be happier – but he composes himself quickly. Back to the casual sassy nonchalance he’s famous for in 1.4 seconds.

‘ _In the withered, waveless solitude, the dented mask is dancing. Half of the world is sand, the other half mercury and dormant sunlight_ ,’ Tony recites, gaining a small applause from the chauffeur. ‘Let’s go,’ he tells Happy who immediately drives out of the building, taking a longer way round to the studio to pick Pepper up.

She nods approvingly when she sees Tony; he’s made a good job applying make up the way it covers the dark bags under his eyes _and_ appears invisible at the same time.

‘Let’s dance,’ he whispers to himself just before the host invites them onto the scene, and then everything goes according to the plan, right until Tony, answering to a question about the recent rumors about his _slightly_ _erratic_ _behavior_ says this:

‘Yes, I admit I have a problem.’

The host blinks and shakes his head as if he didn’t believe; the audience is suddenly quiet. Pepper is perfectly composed – well, to everyone but Tony, because he knows her too well and can tell that her thoughts are racing and she’s internally struggling between shouting at him, demanding what is he thinking and maybe, maybe saying _I want to help you_ , but that might be just Tony’s imagination.

‘Isn’t that what you wanted to hear?’ he asks, looking at the people’s faces. ‘I thought you’ve been waiting for me to admit that for weeks, if not months.’

Then the host _laughs_ , and everyone else does, too.

‘That’s a sweet thing to say, Tony, but I think it’s not the truthful answer to the question,’ Pepper speaks up first, giving Tony a perfect smile and a murderous glare, but he ignores it.

‘You got me there, Tony,’ the host says, chuckling, and Tony raises an eyebrow.

‘Well, a sad thing then, because I wasn’t joking.’

‘Tony –’ Pepper starts, but the host cuts in, his attention now focused on Tony.

‘Does that mean that Miss Potts didn’t know anything about this… situation?’

‘I never told her anything,’ Tony admits, _not_ looking at Pepper. ‘You have all been right, I guess. I’ve had a hard time since – Afghanistan. And –’

‘It must have been more difficult for you, recently, with Stane’s trail, the accusations towards you and Stark Industries…’

‘It’s not exactly pleasant, I can’t say,’ Tony replies with a practiced smile. ‘Therefore I want to apologize for what I’ve been doing. Even if I have been enjoying myself immensely,’ Tony adds, winking at the camera, and Pepper lets out a hiss on his right. The audience laughs a bit, but it dies down soon.

‘So, you’ve been what, acting as the CEO of Stark International… not exactly sober?’

‘I haven’ been doing that for a long time – it’s been Pepper running the business for me. I would just throw all the board members out and do things my way,’ he adds, making Pepper turn towards him and give him a stare saying _if you don’t shut up now, you’re going to be in trouble and I’m not joking._

‘Tony,’ she just says, with a smile, and turns towards the host. ‘Don’t believe Mister Stark, he has been doing  a really good job as CEO, even despite the other obligations –’

‘Certainly honey, I’ve been a busy one,’ Tony quips in, making the audience laugh and Pepper shake her head slightly. Tony blinks at copies the movement, but he act just the same as he did before.

It’s not long before the interview is finished and Tony, in his head, labels it perfectly successful: it was exactly what he wanted. A slight change of the balance between him and her, people seeing that she disapproves of his silly behavior, even if she defends him, Tony acting just like he wanted – and all the newspapers the next day quoting him saying _I admit I have a problem._

They also all make note of how Pepper – Miss Potts – has been trying to keep him in check and not really managing, and generally sympathizing with her. Check. Calling her more rational and down-to-earth, check. Admitting by the way she behaved, despite her verbal denial, that she’s the one who organizes everything for Tony, therefore keeping SI from falling apart even further, check.

Pepper _hates_ it all.

She shouts at him when they are in the limo and then doesn’t speak with him for two days _at all_ , what is an incredible feat given that they spend a lot of time working together.

 

 

Tony is a bit anxious about the December Avengers meeting, given how he fucked up twice within a month, but when he goes into the conference room, no one is looking at him with anger – or annoyance, even. They say hello and sit in their usual spots, with coffee and a bag of cheese-flavored Cheetos, of all things, on the table.

Coulson doesn’t even ask him to file any paperwork related to his absence.

Huh. So he was telling the truth. One god thing, Tony decides.

‘No team mission for you this month again,’ Coulson says in the end. ‘Consider it a Christmas gift. Whoever has their personal ops, you take care of it normally. And one more thing – if you’d all agree, I don’t see why not, we should establish sparring sessions for the whole team. Surely I don’t have to explain you why, the question here is only how. Spider Man. Iron Man. This is s question to you, mostly, because everyone else here is easily accessible.’

‘Weekends,’ Spider Man says immediately. ‘Could do with weekends, I guess.’

‘Agreed,’ Tony replies. It seems like the most sensible of all options, ever though Tony would prefer not to take part in the whole deal at all; it’s not like he does much teamwork but give a lift to Hawkeye occasionally and may provide air support when needed. There haven’t even been enough situations of the whole team fighting together.

‘First Sunday? S.H.I.E.L.D. trains on Sundays. Not always works, not everyone, but training is in seven days a week,’ Barton states, putting a handful of Cheetos into his mouth. Romanov rolls her eyes and sighs disapprovingly. 

‘Works for me.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Iron Man agrees. One Sunday a month is all right. ‘Starting?’

‘January,’ Coulson replies, browsing his papers. ‘Yeah, January 7th.’

Everyone murmurs something is agreement and they all stand up, talking to each other and even wishing the others Merry Christmas – that’s Spider Man, the resident smartass – and before Tony can leave, Banner calls his name.

‘You all right?’ he asks, making Tony frowns. Iron Man stays impassive.

‘Yes. I am.’

‘I just thought something might have happened since you couldn’t be there with us. In Pennsylvania. Since you know, _a man inside the suit_ …’

‘You could call that personal trouble,’ Tony chuckles and Iron Man does so, too, making Bruce frown for a second and grin.

‘I like that artificial laughter,’ he says. ‘It sounds almost human, despite your voice being flat as it is… But anyway, I’m glad it’s nothing serious.’

‘I will try to prevent it happening in the future, the first two spontaneous things that have happened and I couldn’t – I was annoyed. It’s really a great feeling fighting with the good side, I am sure you’d agree.’

‘Definitely,’ Banner admits, shifting slightly. Tony hopes it’s nothing too touchy.

‘Were the robots anyhow interesting?’ he asks, changing the subject, and Banner just sighs.

‘Interesting, well, you could say so. More likely acting like broken toys wreaking havoc and not much more… They definitely weren’t as neat as any of Stark’s stuff,’ Banner ads and Tony freezes inside the armor; fortunately no one can see that as Iron Man remains unmoving. ‘But, I don’t want to keep you. You’re always in hurry. Let me copy Spider Man and wish you Happy Christmas, hoping that there won’t be any trouble we’d need to take care of just before the holidays.’

‘Better for the humanity,’ Tony offers and Banner chuckles. ‘Yeah. Happy holidays,’ he adds and gives Coulson a wave before leaving the room.

 

 

The next few days are exhausting and boring, in a way. Tony continues the game, Pepper is mad at him again, Tony meets with Doc for a movie night but ends up falling asleep after fifteen minutes of the movie.

On 8th, Friday, Tony has the last radiation; doctor Levy orders a set of examinations for Monday to see how the tumor is exactly before the surgery. On Saturday, there is the annual Stark International Christmas Ball which Tony goes to and act nicely up until 2200 hrs and then it takes him a full hour before Pepper drags him out of the room in a graceful manner only she can manage; she takes care of the gala herself, not even looking back at Tony. Happy helps him in the car and as soon as the doors are closed, Tony drops the act, takes his tie off and unbuttons his cuffs. Happy offers him a bottle of mineralized water and a small smile.

‘You wanted it, boss,’ he says and it doesn’t really help, but Tony appreciates the honesty.

‘Yeah, I did,’ he agrees, drains half of the bottle and gestures at Happy to start the car. ‘Let’s go home. Pepper will do perfectly well on her own.’

‘That she will,’ Happy agrees.

Back in the house, Tony puts the suit on tells Happy goodbye and flies to Malibu. It’s almost midnight there when he arrives.

He leaves the suit in the workshop – it’s so good to be in the space that he feels so familiar with – and goes to the beach. It’s rather cold, so he doesn’t walk barefoot this time, he puts in proper shoes and a coat and even a scarf and a hat. It would be bad if he caught a cold a few days – _before_.

It feels like a very good copy of the last time he was there: it’s only colder, but the sky, the stars, the ocean are the same. The wind is surprisingly warm, too.

‘I hope it’s not the last time I’m here,’ Tony murmurs to himself, but the words get lost within the wind. ‘It better not be the last fucking time,’ he adds and it sounds like a promise.

 

 

On Monday, Tony goes to see doctor Levy and stays in the clinic for two day; there are tests and more tests; everything seems okay, she says. The tumor is a bit smaller so the surgery might not be as invasive as she has feared.

‘I will have a team of surgeons with myself. They will sign the paperwork you requested, non-disclosure statement…. We’ll do the surgery on Friday, 10 a.m., is that okay with you?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Tony agrees. ‘Can I get out in between?’

‘We’ll need you here Thursday at noon. I can let you out now, but be here on time. _Obviously_.’

‘I will,’ he promises and leaves; when he’s in the car, he asks Happy to swing by his favorite Thai place. ‘I want something really spicy and crazy,’ he tells the man. ‘I don’t know when I will be able to eat that again. You know.’

‘Sure, boss,’ Happy just says and does as he’s asked.

The food bought, they go back home and eat and when they are done with the main dish and the dessert, Tony goes down to the office and looks through the numerous projects that he’s managed to complete to leave for Pepper and SI, done when everyone though he was getting drunk and had sex with some random girls; there are still enough of those claiming to have slept with him.

Wednesday morning, Tony goes back to the office and the first thing he does is destroy some files that shouldn’t be seen by anyone but him. Done with that, he makes himself a cup of coffee and sandwich and curls up in the armchair.

‘JARVIS, I want you to make a simulation of what I will – what I will look like, Rives will look like, when we do everything as planned. Show me,’ the A.I. does that obediently and Tony eyes the pictures critically. ‘Percentage?’

‘Given that, according to your plans, no one will be looking for Tony Stark, and there are no reference files that could be used for comparison, the probability that him and Nate Rives will be suspected to be the same person is 6.3%, sir.’

‘Well, I guess we can’t get anything better… Use the simulation for Rives’ documents and have them ready for me when  – when I am back. Or Happy will pick them up, if it will be necessary.’

‘Of course, sir,’ JARVIS agrees.

‘All the paperwork for Pepper done?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Print it for me… The suits are secured?’

‘Again, yes, sir.’

‘You’re an angel, J…’ Tony murmurs, closing his eyes and messaging temples. He’s been doing very good job at ignoring the fear slowly raising in his guts. Well, panic is a better word. Tony has never been a man who gets _scared_ easily, but the waiting is terrifying, especially that he doesn’t know what to expect, the doctors can’t tell him for sure what they will need to resect, and there is always, every single second, a thing inside his body that is killing him. _Slowly_.

‘You keep saying that, sir,’ JARVIS comments, cutting in his thoughts. A moment later Dummy rolls with the documents and Tony signs them with a flourish and puts them into a paper folder.

‘Have the bots pack everything I need for – the hospital. I trust you to know what that will be and I trust them to do it nicely, okay? I go to SI now, need to talk with a few people, and I should be back in the afternoon. Tell Happy,’ he adds; the bodyguard is doing his workout routine in the gym right now.

In SI Tower, Tony talks with his favorite R&D employees, as well as the new ones: he’s hired seven of them two weeks prior and they’ve been acclimatizing themselves with the company, doing rather well; the whole new crew, now consisting of Irvin, Berry, Gilbert and sixteen young people is probably the best thing that has happened to SI in a long time and Tony is sure, really sure, they will be the core of the new research team that will rock the world.

While Tony is not there.

The rest of the day passes quickly; Tony gets a burger for late lunch and spends the afternoon in his workshop in the tower, then he goes back home and eats dinner with Happy.

Coulson gets a note saying that Iron Man will be unavailable until the end of the month, unless it’s a life and death situation, and asks to be forgiven for the problems. The agent writes back saying that he hopes everything is all right. _We value our people_ , he writes and that makes Tony smile. More likely _need_ than _value_ , but okay.

‘If it is life and death situation, _the end of the world_ kind of situation,’ Tony tells Happy when they are finishing the dinner, ‘I want you to come in.’

‘Me,’ the man snickers and rolls his eyes, but then he notices Tony is completely serious. ‘Me? Are you sure you are feeling all right, boss?’

‘I am, I am. But if it _really_ is life or death, well – you can refuse – I made a suit that will fit you. JARVIS knows everything, I just finished it a few days ago… We can go flying, when I’m back, if you want. Or you can, if I’m –’

‘Stop right there, Tony,’ Happy says, making Tony look up sharply. The man hardly ever calls him anything but _boss_. ‘You better keep your word and fly with me, you idiot,’ he adds and gives Tony a hug.

‘I won’t fall asleep tonight,’ Tony murmurs into the man’s shoulder, feeling awkward but kind of nice, at the same time. ‘Movie night?’

‘You pick the movies,’ Happy replies and that’s exactly what they do.

Pepper comes to Tony’s apartment at 9 a.m., just like he asked her the previous day, and Tony waits for her in the small ‘shop, tinkering with one of the bots’ arms, since the joint has just malfunctioned recently. She stands in the doorway, staring at him, so Tony sighs, musters up all the courage he says and, masks in place, turns around to face her.

‘Given everything that has been happening, Pep, and the fact that you know, I’ve been… irresponsible, or something, losing control, you can say, and I’m conscious enough to know what I’ve stepped into, runs in the family, and conscious enough to know that I’m too messed up to keep doing – all this –’ Tony makes a vague gesture, hand shaking a slightest bit, ‘I, hereby, irrevocably, appoint you chairman and CEO of Stark Industries. Effective immediately. Congratulations, you will do a great job.’

Pepper is silent for a few moments, but then she speaks up in disbelief.

‘You are insane. And you’ve – you’ve been drinking.’

‘Both are the exact reasons, Peppy,’ Tony replies, smiling charmingly. ‘Now shoo. All the paperwork was sent to Legal a few minutes ago. When you go back to the tower, it’s all yours. They are waiting.’

‘You’re crazy –’

‘You can’t make me take it back,’ Tony quips in. True. ‘You will do great,’ he adds, giving her a virtual kiss. ‘Now, _shoo,_  I have things to do,’ he says and basically pushes her out of the room.

‘Is she gone?’ he asks JARVIS a few minutes later, when the joint is all fixed.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Tell Happy I am ready,’ Tony says, looks around the room for the last time, and leaves, too.

 

 

The next few hours are hectic; Tony gets admitted and meets the whole team of doctors that will operate him; it all feels unreal and strange to be surrounded with the white-clad silhouettes. Doc is there with him, though, and Happy who is Tony’s recently appointed _next of kin_ , just – just in case. They have discussed it, all of the decisions that he might have to make, if, if, if. At some point, maybe. _If._

Tony lets Doc and Happy occupy his mind with everything _but_ , it’s probably better not to think at this point, just – accept things as they come.

It still doesn’t feel real.

It doesn’t feel fucking real _at all_. Tony can’t help but wonder if everyone feels this was or it’s just him. It seems to be one of those _human things_ though, the things that Tony has managed to avoid or repress for a good portion of his life

Somehow, Tony manages to fall asleep at night for a few hours; maybe it is something he is given, because there were quite a few pills he swallows without asking what they are; he would be given an answer, he knows, but he didn’t really feel like asking. His scientific mind doesn’t exactly demand explanations now.

In the morning, there are a few more tests and when he’s deemed ready for the surgery. The last thing he remembers is the anesthesiologist telling him to count from ten to one.

 

 

When he wakes up, the first thing he feels is numbness, mixed with pain, and several things attached to his body in various places. He remembers perfectly well – everything. But he is on too many sedatives, probably, to feel panicked, but he knows his heart should be beating fast with anticipation.

‘Good morning, boss,’ Happy’s voice greets him and a moment later the man comes into view. Tony frowns a bit, not able to read anything from Happy’s face.

‘How did it –’

‘Wait until the doctor comes and checks up on you,’ Happy tells him, patting his hand clumsily. ‘She will know you’ve woken up, she will be here any minute now –’ the man manages to say before Levy comes into the room, Doc following her closely. Tony studies them briefly without blinking.

‘Don’t tell me,’ he tells them. ‘I can see it in your _faces_ ,’ he adds, and he really imagines he can. ‘Right?’

There is no answer. _Right_.

‘We, well, opened your body,’ Levy starts; sure it’s easier for her, they’ve known each other for two months only, not _decades._ ‘The tumor was a bit different than we thought, given the tests’ results… It’s unresectable. We couldn’t really do anything, we just sew you closed and let you rest.’

There is a long moment of silence.

‘How long do I have?’ Tony asks finally and it’s calmer and more calculated that he’d ever expect of himself. It’s probably shock, he realizes. Some time before the rational knowledge sinks in _for real._

‘It depends on what you decide to do, Tony,’ Doc speaks up, stepping closer to the bed. ‘If it’s not treated, one year, maybe a bit longer – but we could do palliative radiotherapy, the tumor has been responding quite well to what we’ve been giving you, all things considered. It would be a bit lighter, so you’d feel better, less side effects… That would give you two to three years, we can’t give you more detailed estimation now.’

‘Don’t you dare to say you’re sorry, _anyone_ ,’ Tony says quickly, before they can do exactly that. ‘ _Please_.’

Tony never says please. 

‘We can let you out tomorrow, you’ll have to take care of the stitches. There is no need to keep you here any longer than that. How about you take your time until January to think? There isn’t so much hurry now,’ Levy says softly. 

‘Okay,’ Tony agrees. ‘ _Okay_.’

 

 

When Tony leaves the hospital, he goes straight home and the first thing he notices is a huge box addressed in a swirly writing to _Nate Rives_ on the kitchen table. He opens it reluctantly and it turns out to be filled with _handmade_ Christmas cards. Tony grins so widely that his face almost hurts, throws all of them onto the table, sits cross-legged on the chair and goes through them one by one, methodically, reading the wishes inside, some of them sloppy and some neat, some with drawings and some with collages, some glittery, some black and white.

There are twenty seven.

It really makes his day.

The next thing he notices is a package with Nate Rives’ documents, perfect condition, the photo resembling what Tony will look like.

Then Tony goes to sleep; Doc gave him sleeping pills; he’s known Tony long enough to know that otherwise there would be no sleeping at all.

Pepper comes by the next morning to ask if Tony is planning to come to a New Year’s Eve party. He hasn’t expected to – to be able to, but he says yes. Pepper makes him promise he’ll behave. Tony says he will do his best.

‘If you need any kind of help or anything at all, Tony – I don’t want to see you struggling like that. I just –’

‘I know, I will,’ Tony assures here; he _would_ if what she thinks – because he makes her think that – was true. It’s not.

Tony has managed to read some of the papers from the day after Pepper being announced as the new CEO of SI and, unsurprisingly, they are not rather doubtful, but they all say that she is going to be a positive change after Tony himself. He agrees completely.

She looks happy. The change is small but obvious; Tony sees it only because he’s been looking for it.

 

 

New Year’s Eve party is, as Happy calls it, _the first scene of the third act_.

‘I wouldn’t be surprised at this point if you write a play about me,’ Tony comments. Happy’s smirk is kind of suspicious, but Tony knows the man is just playing with him.

New Year’s Eve party is all Pepper has been anxious about and even though Tony doesn’t really cause a scene – even if he’d like to, kind of, he’s been feeling particularity carefree these days – because that would be too much. He’s a mouthy little shit though and hits on a few wrong women, making a complete fool of himself, and ends up throwing up in the bathroom, the reason being completely different from what everyone thinks it is, but it works.

Tony is home a good hour before midnight; he gets himself a glass of champagne, some pumpernickel sandwiches and asks JARVIS to play Iron Man’s coming out, since it’s a one year anniversary. It’s a good celebration, in a way, Tony decides.

 

 

The first Avengers meeting of the year, thankfully, is postponed to January 3rd.

Coulson asks Iron Man is he is okay. Tony says _yes_ , because Iron Man _is_ okay: according to Doc and Levy, he should be able to live more or less normally, at least until a few months  –before. And since Tony has decided to do the palliative radiotherapy, he should be _okay,_ as okay as it gets, for a year or maybe two.

Everything could happen, but he hopes it will be – not too bad.

Doc tells him that is the good approach.

Tony smiles at that and it’s even genuine.

The first radiation in planned for the middle of January is two days after Rhodey comes back from his mission; he’s been away for over a year. It’s also three days after Iron Man goes for an op with the Avengers and that is a few days after their first sparring session and Tony can tell that their understanding of each other has already improved. When Tony is in the air, listening to Coulson’s words pouring straight into his ear, he knows that everything will be fine and whatever they are doing right now is going to help someone; he knows that it is going to keep the Earth spinning. That sounds grand and impossible, but everything grand and impossible has to start somewhere.

Rhodey, as soon as he sees Tony, punches him in the face and then hugs him, getting blood all over his outfit. Tony begins to wonder if it’s some kind of a thing.

‘What the fuck do you think you are doing? Hmm? I’ve been in a shithole so deep that I couldn’t contact you, deep covert op, and I come back and what do I learn? You fucking know what I learn!’ Rhodey shouts at top voice, almost making the glass in the living room vibrate. Tony stares. ‘I don’t know what to do with you,’ Rhodey says, shaking his head and staring at Tony intently, concern mixed with anger in his eyes.

‘There is something I want to tell you,’ Tony states in response, walking up to look at the night view of the city; at least he’s not going to miss that. Nate’s flat is already waiting and it’s lovely. ‘But I can’t,’ he adds and ignored all of Rhodey’s pleading and begging, all the threats and tricks.

When Rhode finally gets that this time, he won’t get anything out of Tony, he tells JARVIS to order pizza and makes Tony sit on the sofa and tell him everything that’s been going on from _his point of view_.

Tony shares all the _Anthony Stark_ stories. That’s what Rhodey is asking about, anyway.

The only moment when it’s hard to keep his act natural is when Rhodey mentions how Iron Man came to the base that he’s later been transferred to and everyone was excited like kids to see the superhero. Tony has no idea what he would really say about Iron Man if he was not Iron Man himself, but Rhodey seems convinced his act.

Rhodey stays with Tony for the night but in the morning he needs to report to the base and give his reports and do some other stuff Tony can’t bring himself to care about.

The next it’s the last day Tony spends in the house, he doesn’t go out, not even to SI: everything he wanted to take care of he did before the surgery. There are still two suitcases in his wardrobe, full of suits that have been neatly folded. Tony leaves a note via JARVIS to donate them to whoever; it’s not like Tony is going to wear them a lot now.

He spends the whole night up, sitting with his feet bare and cold, forehead pressed against the glass wall, staring at the cityscape and at the room full of shadows and orange-red reflections of the city glow; it’s too high for ads to be visible.

Happy sleeps soundly downstairs, Tony knows, just as he should.

In the early morning, Tony is bleary-eyed when he drinks his coffee and manages to swallow half of a dry toast. Then he packs his last personal items into bags, takes the three of them – and leaves.

Everything has been cared for: Tony’s secret lab is waiting for the last items to be delivered in half an hour; the suits and bots have been transported over the last two nights. The house is cleared from everything Tony doesn’t want others to see. JARVIS remains installed, of course, supervising the place. Rives’ apartment is waiting for its owner.

A car is waiting for Tony with a trunk open.

‘Time for us, boss,’ Happy says and he almost sounds as if he didn’t regret anything. Tony is quite sure he himself doesn’t – nothing but hurting Pepper and Rhodey, but it’s just – just for the time being. For a few months.

Tony doesn’t look back.

 

 

January 14th, 2012, all the newspapers write about is the disappearance of Tony Stark. _The Stark’s star has fallen!_ and _What happened behind the closed door?_ and, in one paper, something as simple as _Tony Stark gone missing, SI CEO informs._

Iron Man flies – in his invisible suit – to Great Britain. Anthony Stark disappears from the face of Earth, Tony turns into Nate Rives and then a certain British citizen boards a London – New York 1600 hrs plane which arrives at JFK Airport at 1800 hrs local time, and soon he is greeted with those words:

‘Welcome to the United States of America, Mister Rivers.’

The man smiles.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> I would very much appreciate any kind of feedback. Please take a minute to let me know what you liked, what you didn't like, and if you found this interesting :) 
> 
>  
> 
> The next part, _Was not a star on out side_ , is going to cover in more detail the time between Tony's last hospital stay and the New Year's Eve.


End file.
